


Potential Difficulties

by Trillion_G



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M, Medical Trauma, Miscarriage, Pon Farr, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27572488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trillion_G/pseuds/Trillion_G
Summary: On the Genesis planet, Spock experienced pon farr and only Saavik was there to help him through it. Now she must deal with the unintended consequences while trying to cope with the fact that Spock has no memory of her after the fal-tor-pan.Please heed the tags.The beginning takes place between Star Trek III and Star Trek IV.
Relationships: Daniel Corrigan/T'Mir, Hikaru Sulu/Pavel Chekov (Implied), James T. Kirk/Spock, Saavik/Spock (Star Trek), Sarek/Amanda Grayson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is was an idea for a small fic that ballooned into ~25k words. I've always wondered how Saavik dealt with the consequences of Spock pon farr and David's death. The novelizations of the films and interviews with the film creators reference a relationship between David Marcus and Saavik and the possibility that Saavik is pregnant with Spock child's (hence why she did not return to earth on the Bounty).
> 
> This fic heavily references Carolyn Clowes's The Pandora Principle for Saavik's background and heritage. The character Salok comes from that novel.
> 
> Daniel Corrigan, Sorel, and T'Mir are creations of Jean Lorrah from her novels The IDIC Epidemic and The Vulcan Academy Murders
> 
> Spock (and Sarek's) last name "S'chn T'gai" comes from Barbara Hambly's novel Ishmael to my knowledge.
> 
> Final notes on serious topics: this author is very pro-choice regarding women's body autonomy. The fic deals heavily in the topics of abortion and miscarriage. Please do not read or engage if you aren't comfortable with these topics. There's also a short referencing to "grooming" in the sense of an adult grooming a child to accept abuse; specifically I state that Spock did NOT do this to Saavik when she was his student.

The cool white stone blended seamlessly with synthetic building materials in the most advanced hospital in Shi'Kahr. Even damaged stone tiles were repaired or replaced with a matching material; it was deemed to be kinder to the planet than to continue to mine for the appropriate stone. And if you looked very carefully, you could determine where natural metamorphic rock ended and artificial material started.

Saavik determined that this exam room had six completely synthetic tiles and a further eleven stone tiles that were repaired and enhanced with synthetic material.

Loathing was an emotion, but she had never been able to suppress the pure loathing she felt for medical exams. A savage, small voice in her head whispered cruel words:  _ I hate you, I will hurt you if you touch me again _ . Allowing her ordered, logical side to experience shame was the only method she had to quiet the blood thirst.

The logic in forcing her to endure rounds of exams was lost on her since she was an active Starfleet officer. She received physicals on a regular schedule and each time she transferred ships. “If I may remind you, my last thorough physical was 4.2 standard months ago. It is an inefficient use of this hospital’s resources to administer another in the short time that has elapsed.” She immediately shut down the nagging guilt about her neglecting to disclose the aching in her back and hips. It was likely minor, perhaps a result of travelling in a ship designed for Klingon ergonomics.

The healer who had conducted much of the exam frowned a fraction. She was hardly older than Saavik who was barely out of Starfleet Academy herself. “There is no logic in repeating information which you have stated before. Twice.”

Saavik pursed her lips and adjusted the white airy patient robe around her shoulders. The second healer in the room was a bent man, extremely old even for a Vulcan. He chuckled, and Saavik could not refrain from staring at him. “You must forgive Healer T’Pela, Saavik. She agreed that this would be a waste of our resources when a short round of scans and a few passes of a dermal regenerator are all that she believed necessary.”

“Then  _ you  _ have ordered these extensive tests and examinations, Healer Salok?”  _ Old man, I could cut you down with a single movement of my hand. _

“You are a medical novelty. I am indulging my scientific curiosity.” The healer raised an eyebrow as Saavik’s eyes gleamed with a furious light. She was successful in subduing further expressions of her anger and indignancy. “T’Pela, you have permission to leave and resume your examination of other patients.”

The young healer vacated the room quickly and without argument.

“Your turmoil is clouding your logic, young one. You had your medical records sealed, citing the privacy act?” Saavik nodded, and the old man could see the pieces already connecting in her head. “That applies to Vulcan’s records as well, as you begin to understand. T’Pela wished to respect your privacy and do only as much as is required to heal your superficial wounds. But I had two arguments for further examination. And a third has arisen.”

“The Romulan blood,” she realized. Salok noticed she used the article “the” rather than possessive “my.”

“Only fifteen children from Hellguard survived into adulthood, and you are the only one I have not been able to meet since you were initially rescued.” Upon hearing the name of that cursed planet, Saavik flinched.

“You were there? As part of the retrieval mission?” Saavik did her best to control the hitching of her words. A cold tightness had gripped her, and she suddenly felt overwhelming nausea.  _ Kill, run, hide. _

Rather than reaching for a hypospray, Salok clamped a bracelet on each of Saavik’s wrists and activated them when her skin paled. The bracelets chilled to almost freezing immediately, providing relief to Saavik’s unease. “I was there on that regrettable mission. And I remember a fierce tiny warrior stealing her way around our campsite. It is an honor to meet you again and to confirm that you have grown into such an admirable Vulcan citizen.”

“I have never been to Vulcan before now,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure why she chose that statement; she was overwhelmed by his kind, unearned esteem.

Salok gave her a moment to gather herself before pressing on. “Because your medical history is sealed, it is necessary to carefully examine your test results to be certain that they are within acceptable parameters. What was my second reason, Saavik?”

Her large eyes grew wider as she worked it out. “I was on the Genesis Planet.” He nodded. “But, sir, that information is classified. How--” She swallowed as a wave of nausea hit her again. Salok added a cooling pack to the back of her neck.

“It was deemed necessary to inform a limited team of healers about your recent feats.”

“I am not certain Admiral Kirk has that authority.” She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply.

“He does. But it was Admiral Sarek who made the decision.” 

Sarek. Saavik had never met Spock’s infamous father beyond the singular salute they had exchanged at the  _ fal-tor-pan _ , and she was not certain that she wished for that to change. “It is logical that I should be examined. Besides Spock,” she swallowed audibly, “I am the remaining living specimen who has resided on the planet the longest.” The other would have been David Marcus.

_ David is dead. _

She vomited into a basin that Salok was able to retrieve in time to avoid an unfortunate mess. The old healer was kind enough to refrain from comment or even soothing words; he merely waited in silence as she gathered herself.

“My apologies,” she croaked after consuming an entire glass of water in one breath.

“Apologizing for a situation out of your control is illogical. We do not yet fully understand what effects that your time on the Genesis planet may have on you. Further analysis will be required by continuing to examine you at regular intervals.”

“Unfortunately my time on Vulcan is limited. I will be returning to Earth with Admiral Kirk’s crew upon their departure.”

“That is not possible,” Salok said, almost softly.

“Starfleet will require my presence. I will be reassigned to another project or vessel.”

“That decision is no longer for Starfleet to make. The Vulcan council will override their orders.”

Saavik stared at Salok, uncomprehending. “How is that possible? Why would the council do this?”  _ Has Vulcan just been waiting for me to arrive just to imprison me? Now I’m their lab rat, no different than my Romulan captors? Am I being discharged from Starfleet for my association with Admiral Kirk? _ All the years of hard work she and Spock had put into civilizing her and getting her through Starfleet… she felt it all slipping through her grasp like water.  _ I  _ will  _ escape; you cannot hold me, nobody can! _

“I mentioned a third cause to examine you closely. One effect of your time on Genesis is understood. Do I understand that Spock experienced rapid aging upon his regeneration? He did reach an age approximating 21 to 28 years?”

“Yes, and beyond. Accelerated aging. You believe my lifespan has been shortened?” The information affected her less that it might have. She had faced death many times over, and she had always suspected she would never live long enough to grow old. Even if her hazardous choice of occupation would allow it, her struggle through abuse and malnutrition in the first years of her life was always going to have an effect.

“That is possible, yes. But I am referring to another condition. One that involves Spock. He is alive. His body survived the fires, possibly multiple times.”

Saavik was reluctant to admit just how many times in a short span his body experienced  _ pon farr _ . This conversation was becoming impossible to endure.

“Yes. But he… survived.”

“With help?” Salok did not press Saavik; his suspicions were confirmed by her shamed expression and shrinking form. He was known as a gentle man, possessing a wealth of tact and patience. It was one reason he was so successful at treating children.

But sometimes simple, blunt facts were all that would suffice. “Saavik, you are pregnant.”

“That is logical.” That was all she could mutter before she vomited into the basin again.


	2. Chapter 2

Saavik stayed in her room at the hotel until night fell.  _ Not hiding,  _ she told herself, _ just regrouping. _ If she were a more proper Vulcan, she would have spent that time meditating, but as her blood scans would show, she was not a proper Vulcan. And blood scans couldn’t detect all the emotions she was letting bubble to the surface, such as fear, sorrow, fury and all of the loathing.

She knew she would have to work to quickly overcome that particular feeling, because for the next year she would be undergoing countless exams. She’d allowed her medical records to be unsealed for Vulcan healers only, but those only provided baselines. Her time on Genesis, her half-Romulan blood, and the fetus meant that there was no precedent for how her pregnancy would progress. It seemed like every time she opened her PADD to review her own medical file, another healer or team of healers had been added to her case.

In a few days she would meet with a team who specialized in Vulcan fertility and genetic combining. She clicked on Healer Sorel’s name to bring up his profile. As one of the two team directors, he appeared to be highly qualified, with a string of degrees and accolades attached to his name. Selecting the second director’s profile brought a surprise: he was a human doctor. And his list of degrees, awards, and publications was just as prolific as Healer Sorel’s.

While the profiles didn’t give specifics on how many successful offspring they had produced, it was evident that their successes spanned decades, more than half a century. Scrolling back up the list of publications and doing the math, Saavik concluded that this was the team responsible for Spock’s birth.

_ Spock… _ Saavik placed the PADD on the desk and closed her eyes. She was unable to quell a storm of emotions when she thought of him. She had cried tears during Kirk’s eulogy, affected by her own endless well of suffering and by the waves of anguish radiating from the Admiral. Finding him resurrected on Genesis was such a shock, she hadn’t had time to process. She’d had to focus on surviving and getting him safely off the planet with David. 

Beautiful, soft, gentle David. She hadn’t allowed herself to love him, but she knew she could have. Anytime that warm feeling had pushed to be acknowledged, she had stomped it down, distracting herself with fierce possessiveness and passion. There was safety in those emotions: they equated to survival and instinct. As a child, there had been no room for weaknesses like love and tenderness. It was fight or die. Hellguard destroyed those with compassion and love through starvation, murder, or Romulan death experiments.

In David, Saavik had found everything she was missing in herself, everything she wasn’t allowed to be. He had been open with his heart, not shy about voicing his hopes and fears. He had been so tender with her, even in bed, treating her like a precious jewel. Being with him had felt like safety; his arms a home she’d never had before. He had radiated emotion, but far from being embarrassed or repulsed by it, Saavik had allowed herself to indulge and wrap herself in his expressions of feelings like a borrowed cloak.

She had not ever sensed a gram of fierceness in him. She had believed him to be the antithesis of a warrior. And that was an error that had resulted in his death. On that dying planet, in a moment of suspense, she had made her peace with dying by that Klingon’s hand, and she had failed to react in time to refuse David’s protection. The shame would be a wound she would carry always, cutting deeper than any Klingon blade.  _ She  _ was the warrior and the Starfleet officer; her hands would never be clean of his blood.

Upon learning about her pregnancy hours ago, she’d demanded a paternity test, hopeful that a small part of David lived on in her. But it was logical that it was Spock’s progeny she carried.  _ Pon farr _ triggered heightened fertility in both parties, and her DNA, almost fully Vulcan practically, was more closely aligned with Spock’s. So Spock literally lived on, in body, soul, and offspring, while David was entirely dead.

“Damn. Damn it!” She wiped the tears roughly from her face and stood to pace around her room. 

Most cruel was the realization that she was entirely erased from the memories in Spock’s  _ katra _ . She wondered if he would ever recall their relationship as it had been, as mentor and student.  _ Does he only see me now as a mate, or worse, just someone he mated with? Does he even remember that much? Am I so inconsequential? _

A surge of overwhelming emotion washed over her, overwhelming her mind. When it passed, the desk chair was across the room, one leg broken, and the desk was overturned. Hot burning shame took her, and she bolted from the room.

She prowled the halls of the hotel, chanting a mantra of “calm, collect, suppress, overcome,” and the words were in Spock’s voice in her mind.

Vulcans required much less sleep that humans, sometimes going days at a time without it. As a result, she encountered more people in the public areas of the hotel than she ever did when she had haunted the halls of Starfleet Academy and, later, starships. At the academy, she grew familiar with the nocturnal species, and on the starships it was only the skeleton night shift of mostly humans.

But the hotel’s halls, lobbies, and meditation alcoves were inhabited by mostly Vulcans. The urge to  _ run, hide, defend _ was strong. Could Vulcans instantly tell when another was pregnant? Was her situation as blaringly obvious as she felt?

She passed by a meditation alcove and detected a familiar voice: Sulu’s deep baritone was quiet but distinctive. She couldn’t make out exactly what he was whispering, so she approached the doorless opening to the alcove. What she spotted made her immediately retreat: Sulu had another body pinned up against the wall, his companion’s face buried in his neck. She didn’t stay long enough to tell who it was or if everyone’s clothing was intact, but in her retreat, she heard a single gasped exclamation from Sulu’s companion, “да ну!”

Her disgust warred with envy, and she attempted to suppress both. While she would never desecrate an honored public place such as a meditation alcove, the memory of a particularly passionate kiss with David in a turbolift overwhelmed her. There would be no more risky semi-public making out for her.

Her feet continued to carry her forward, and she found herself in a small lounge. Comfortable chairs were sparsely grouped around knee-high tables. The lighting was low but warm, mostly coming off small fire pits situated around the room.

“Lieutenant Saavik?” She turned to see Commanders Uhura and Scott occupying a table. They each had drinks, and a few empty glasses littered the surface of the table. “Would you like to join us?”

_ No.  _ “I do not wish to intrude.” Especially if these two were also engaging in courting rituals. She wasn’t sure if she wanted company, and definitely wasn’t sure how she felt about such familiar company. The ease of human conversation sometimes lulled her into divulging more than she intended, and she was carrying a secret that she would be keeping until she worked out whether to reveal it to Spock.

“Ach, lass, sit down. The Commander and I are just reminiscing about old times. Hardly interesting stuff to yeh, but you’ll not be intrudin’.”

Saavik pulled a chair near Uhura’s. “On the contrary, Captain Spock once sent me a training tape that consisted of only a single-take recording of the  _ Enterprise _ bridge on an uneventful day. I have viewed it 73 times in its entirety.”

Scotty and Uhura both chuckled. Uhura smiled fondly in contrast to her words. “Oh, I hated recording those. There was always this pressure to look perfect and to remember to act completely professional. I think we had to abandon several tries because McCoy would come barrelling onto the bridge shouting about something.”

“Aye. Cussing a blue streak.”

“I hope he’s doing okay.” Uhura frowned, and Saavik agreed wordlessly. She and McCoy had not ‘gotten off on the best foot’ when she’d met him as a cadet, but she’d grown to understand how competent, gentle, and kind he could be. No Vulcan had endured  _ fal-tor-pan _ in a very long time, and McCoy was the first off worlder. There was no way to tell how his mind would adjust, and Saavik suddenly felt a little less sorry for herself. Conception of a hybrid Vulcan-Human-Romulan was unheard of, but her ancestors and countless others had survived difficult pregnancies before the advent of tools, language, and medicine.

“Well, Lady Amanda will be sure to look after him. Though I wouldn’t want to be holed up with Ambassador Sarek. Right intimidating that one,” Scotty mused into his glass.

“‘Holed up’?” Saavik asked.

“Aye, Leonard is staying with Sarek and Amanda at the estate outside of the city with Captain Spock and Admiral Kirk. Though they’re missin’ out on this very fine hotel. But you know how Lady Amanda can be; she’ll have Len healed up and fattened up before I get that Bird space ready.”

“I am unfamiliar with how Lady Amanda ‘can be’.” The air quotes were evident in Saavik’s words. “Though Spock did speak of her with admiration.”

Uhura started to place a comforting hand on Saavik’s arm, but pulled it back quickly. “You’ve never met Spock’s parents? I seem to remember you lived with him for about a year.”

Saavik was reluctant to detail her past, even though she classified Uhura and, to a point, Scotty as friends. They were some of the few Federation citizens who had visited or even had knowledge of Hellguard, but her childhood, even after escaping that horror, was complicated. The few people who knew the details expressed how ‘difficult it must have been.’ Though Saavik found that sentiment to be one of privilege: she had been fed, sheltered, and shielded from harm. Everything else on the hierarchy of needs Saavik considered to be opulent.

“I believe they were aware of my status as Spock’s student. Spock is a very private person, and he has never divulged many details about his relationship with his parents or his own childhood.”

“Oh, I bet they would love to meet you, baby,” Uhura crooned. “You should contact Lady Amanda. Besides, visiting their estate will give you time with Spock.”

It was so obvious that Saavik made a note to investigate if her cognitive functions were impaired by her time on Genesis or perhaps her medical situation. Lady Amanda and Ambassador Sarek were experienced in hybrid conception, and their knowledge and advice could prove valuable. She was not ready to face Spock, but Scotty had called their house an estate. Perhaps it was large enough that she could visit without encountering him.

“I shall consider it. Thank you for your suggestion.”

\-------------

Saavik was fidgeting. She’d always had a host of energetic habits, and while she’d learned to suppress them (because proper Vulcans did not fidget), right now her control was at its limit. As she twirled the fork between her fingers, she concentrated on breathing exercises in an effort to stop her shaking hands.

Lady Amanda was six minutes overdue to meet for lunch at one of the hotel restaurants. Saavik read and reread the comm-mail explaining and apologizing for her tardiness.  _ Perhaps it is not too late to reschedule this meeting until I am more composed,  _ she thought. She was on the seventh re-read when the maitre d’ approached, escorting a small, older human woman to Saavik’s table.

“Saavik, live long and prosper.” Saavik stood (bumping the table slightly with her hip) and returned the Vulcan salute and greeting. The maitre d’ helped Amanda get situated. “Thank you, Tuka. I never had the chance to congratulate you on the publication of your research in the Federation Cultural Journal. Ambassador Sarek has it queued in his reading list.”

“I appreciate your words, Lady Amanda.” He dipped his head in a single nod. “Your waiter today is T’Luka.”

Saavik noticed that the young Vulcan waitress standing slightly back and looking quite eager bore great resemblance to the maitre d’, and hypothesized that they were related. She could sense a wave of pride coming off the older man.

“Oh!” Amanda said, suppressing a smile. “Last time I saw you T’Luka, you were barely a meter tall, not that long ago. Are you sure you’re old enough to be working or is this establishment breaking child labor laws?” she teased.

T’Luka’s face went stony. “I assure you we observe all regulations, laws, and guidelines completely. I began my service training 4.3 months ago upon my reaching the minimum regulated age for this category of labor.”

Amanda openly smiled now and exchanged a glance with Tuka. “Tuka, T’Luka, this is Lieutenant Saavik. She is a student of my son.”

Saavik had been content to observe the exchange unnoticed, but now held her hand up in greeting.

“Welcome, Lieutenant. You have followed your teacher into Starfleet,” Tuka observed. “Lady Amanda, please give my regards to Misters Sarek and Spock. It would be prudent to allow T’Luka to serve you as I return to my station.”

Amanda and Saavik took their menus from the eager waitress, and Saavik suppressed an illogical urge to hide behind hers. Amanda allowed a few moments of silence before starting the conversation; it was obvious to her trained eye that Saavik was either nervous or agitated. “Saavik, it is my greatest pleasure that we finally meet. Spock gave me updates about your progress through the years. I constantly pestered him to bring you for a visit.”

Saavik was at a loss for words for a moment. “I was unaware that Captain Spock regarded my progress as information important enough to discuss with you and Ambassador Sarek.” 

“Well, I don’t know how much you know about Spock and Sarek’s relationship, but it’s had its rough patches. But yes, Spock speaks about you fondly.”

Saavik frowned slightly. “Fondness is an emotion.”

“It is, indeed.” Amanda’s eyes were sparkling, and Saavik surmised that she was being teased. She discovered that she didn’t mind. “I’ve been dying to meet you. I wanted so much to attend your graduation ceremony, but he didn’t tell us about it until afterwards. If he’d told me you had advanced enough to skip a term, I would have figured out your graduation date and shown up anyway. Sarek and I have a standing diplomatic invitation to all Starfleet formal functions.”

Fortunately T’Luka arrived with their meal, giving Saavik more time to compose herself and determine how to steer the conversation. For some time they ate in silence, and Amanda picked up the thread of conversation by explaining how she had known Tuka and T’Luka since her first day on Vulcan as Sarek’s betrothed. T’Luka’s mother, Tuka’s wife, had even spent a few years living with Amanda and Sarek as a young woman after her parents were both lost, presumed dead, when their starship was ambushed and destroyed by Orion pirates. It was during that time that Amanda had introduced Tuka to his future wife. “And the rest is history.”

“It was very kind of you to open your home to her.”

“Sarek accuses me of taking in all the strays, but he has done his fair share of it.” A wistful, sad look crossed Amanda’s features for a moment. “I don’t think anyone was surprised when Spock took you in. He grew up with plenty of foster siblings.”

“If I may ask a question in reference to an earlier point in our conversation: why would my graduation from the Academy be of importance to you? We were not acquainted at that time.”

Amanda levelled an enigmatic look at her dining companion. “Spock was so proud that you decided to follow him into Starfleet. He’s proud of everything you do. And what’s important to Spock is important to me, especially because of  _ how _ important you are to Spock.”

Saavik dropped her eyes to the table and suppressed a swell of emotions. She was aware that Spock approved of her enrollment at the academy and subsequent high marks. But pride was an emotion. Surely Lady Amanda was incorrectly assigning emotional significance to his words.

“I believe you are overestimating my place in Spock’s regards. After the ceremony, it does not seem that he has any memory of me. Perhaps to him, I am now merely a Starfleet officer whom he spent a short acquaintance with on Genesis.”

“I have faith his memories will return,” Amanda assured. “Each hour seems to bring more and more back. Besides, you weren’t just acquainted on Genesis. You saved his life.” Saavik shot a wide-eyed look that Amanda could only call panic. “Jim Kirk says that you protected him from Klingons and provided food, water, and shelter. Is that not right?”

Saavik’s panic seemed to pass. “Yes. Yes that is correct. However, his rapid aging and the effects of the Genesis planet are uncertain. He seemed to be in so much distress on the planet, so I would expect that he had little thought left for the strangers that were with him during the ordeal.”

“Please come pay him a visit at the house. The healers think that one of the best ways to get his memories to return is to expose him to the things and people most familiar to him. His memories about Jim Kirk and the Enterprise seem to be improving by leaps and bounds.”

“That is logical. But those are the most valuable to him.” 

“My point exactly,” Amanda replied. Saavik remained withdrawn for some time until their meal was coming to an end. When Amanda declined dessert and coffee, Saavik could see her opportunity waning. She was unsure if she would find the courage to make contact with Amanda again. “Well, Saavik, I am sincere when I say that it’s been a pleasure meeting you. I would like to return to be with Spock, but you’re welcome to come.”

Saavik took a deep breath and rushed out, “Lady Amanda, I would be most grateful if you would join me in my hotel room for a drink.” At Amanda’s perplexed but patient expression, Saavik knew she had to explain further. “There is a deeply personal matter that I wish to discuss. Your insight would be uniquely suited.”

“Of course, Saavik. Lead the way.”

The short trip out of the restaurant, to the lift, and through the labyrinthine halls seemed to take ages as adrenaline pulsed through Saavik. Either Amanda sensed her agitation or she was merely chatty, but she kept up a running commentary of innocuous trivia and reminiscing about the hotel (“It’s one of the most ancient buildings in the region; it was originally a feast hall…”) and the dignitaries she and Sarek had hosted.

In her room, Saavik served Amanda peppermint tea from the replicator, and Saavik chose a Vulcan tea of her own, though she didn’t drink it. Amanda sipped in silence, waiting for Saavik to broach the subject. After some time, she took the first step. “What can I help you with?”

Instead of replying, Saavik stood from her (new) desk chair to pace. She could sense that she was clearly broadcasting anxiety and agitation, but couldn’t muster the control to hide it. Finally she took a deep breath, willing calmness. It was logical to proceed with the conversation. “Spock is half human.” Amanda waited, understanding that this was obviously not a question, and that Saavik needed to work up to her point. “You… Forgive me for asking such personal questions. You may refuse to answer.”

“I cannot refuse or acquiesce until I know the question.”

“Yes, that is logical. When you were… carrying him, was the pregnancy difficult?”

Amanda set her tea down on its saucer and folded her hands on the desk. “Spock is the only pregnancy I carried to term, and that’s because we prepared for almost a year for it. So I don’t have a personal frame of reference. But my doctors all agree that it was more risky and more stressful for my body than the average Vulcan or Human pregnancy.”

Saavik sat back in her chair. Her eyes were wide with curiosity. “You prepared for it?”

“Yes, combining Vulcan and Human DNA successfully had never been done. Believe it or not, merging DNA was the easy part. I took supplements and went through minor genetic modification to temporarily sustain a high level of copper in my blood because the difference in blood composition is the most fundamental hurdle.”

“The fetus was experiencing iron overdose,” Saavik presumed.

“Other way around. My body adjusted to absorb and circulate all the copper I could get. But it wasn’t enough for Spock, and too much for me. The excess of iron didn’t seem to affect him as much as the copper deficiency.” Her expression turned dark and sad, but she quickly recovered. “But that was Spock. There was a pregnancy early on in my engagement to Sarek that we were unprepared for and did not have the opportunity to monitor, so I don’t know how iron may have affected it. I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I miscarried.”

“I grieve with thee.” Saavik bent her head solemnly. She was trying to prepare herself for the very likely outcome that her own pregnancy would end in a similar matter, but she wondered how she would approach the situation if the pregnancy were with a bondmate.

“Thank you. That was so long ago, and I’ve told very few people about it. But I was so determined to have a child with Sarek. He was concerned and deemed it an illogical wish, but he didn’t stand in my way. We got Spock on our very first try. It was a miracle.”

“It was science,” Saavik countered.

“Why can’t it be both?” Saavik didn’t reply, contemplating her point. Amanda continued, “I carried him about two thirds of the way, then they removed him, uterus, placenta, and all to finish gestating in a bespoke incubator.”

Saavik unconsciously placed her hands across her stomach, unseen under the table by Amanda. “You made a great sacrifice.”

“It is likely, Saavik, that one day you’ll have children of your own, and you won’t think twice about making sacrifices for them. Spock was worth every injection, procedure, ache, pain, and risk that it took to get him. And having him back now is causing me to remember it all over again. I  _ feel  _ every moment I spend away from him.”

Saavik couldn’t suppress the guilt she felt. She’d wanted to meet with Amanda somewhere where there wasn’t a chance to encounter Spock when she was unprepared. Amanda was giving up much to wait while Saavik procrastinated on making her point.

Bluntness and abruptness were two traits she’d worked hard to overcome from her youth. But neither had fully left her. She employed those skills now. “I am pregnant.”

Amanda smiled; she did not appear to be surprised. “Congratulations!”

Saavik shook her head. “Why would you congratulate me? You do not know whether the pregnancy is fortuitous.”

“The fact that our bodies continue to function in their ability to foster new life is cause enough for celebration. Even if you choose to terminate, there is a brief time in which you participated in nature’s most wondrous invention.”

This was agreeable to Saavik, especially as it seemed Amanda was openly addressing the potential to terminate. It was an option she had not ruled out.

“Do you want to tell me more? I’m guessing the father is human? Or at least not Vulcan? Oh!” A thought came to Amanda. “Your Romulan blood…”

Saavik hadn’t looked up at Amanda for several moments. “He is not Vulcan, at least not fully. I am less concerned with the mixing of Vulcan and Romulan blood. The Human blood is of greater concern.”

The silence was deafening. Saavik found herself completely unable to speak as the pieces fell into place for Amanda.

“Spock?” Amanda’s whisper was full of awe.

Saavik curled in on herself. She refused to let tears fall; she considered her tears at Spock funeral one of her greatest failings.  _ How could I do this to her? Why did I bring her here? Why am I telling her this? I should have terminated and told no one. Ever. I wish she would leave and never contact me again. _ As Saavik started to come out of her head and become more aware of her surroundings, she realized she was shaking. Then she realized Amanda was crouched down at her side, murmuring soothing words. She wasn’t touching Saavik, having so many years of experience with Vulcan culture and taboos, but Saavik found she wouldn’t have minded.

“Yes,” she choked out. Finally, she was able to fight the vice on her lungs and draw in a full breath. After four breaths, she found her control returning, and she uncurled. “I apologize for my display. I am finding it difficult to suppress my emotions.”

Amanda urged Saavik to take her Vulcan tea, if nothing else than for something warm to grip. “It is illogical to apologize for matters that are out of your control.”

Saavik sipped the tea and tugged her tunic back into place. “Then I apologize for keeping you from your son for so long this afternoon. And for forcing you to share this burden.”

“Nonsense. I’m relieved you’ve come to me.” Amanda pondered her own tea for a moment, then nodded her head once. “You must come back to the estate with me. We have so much to discuss.”

Saavik pursed her lips. “I cannot.”

“You will not have to see Spock. I won’t even tell him you are there. I can see you’re reluctant to talk to him, and now I understand. But I was not exaggerating when I was saying that every moment away from him is hard, so I wish to return and at least by nearby in case he needs anything. Come back with me so we can talk. Please.”

Saavik drained her tea and stood, arming herself with her PADD. “I concede.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Symbol "//" denotes psychic communication

If he were anything but a Vulcan with near perfect memory, one could say that Sarek couldn’t remember the last time he and Amanda’s house had not lodged temporary residents or guests. Early in their marriage, Amanda had once mused, “We should install a revolving door.” Sarek had theorized five ways in which to modify a traditional revolving door to adapt it to the harsh Vulcan climate and dangerous fauna before he realized Amanda’s statement had been in jest.

He recalled that memory as he entered his dining room for last meal. Admiral Kirk, Doctor McCoy and Spock were not present, but Doctor Corrigan and Healer Sorel were seated at the table, conversing with Amanda. Spock’s student Saavik was at the table as well, sitting silently, posture rigid.

Sarek sat across from Saavik rather than at the head of the table. The guests were present at Amanda’s invite, and he judged the dinner to be informal based on Amanda’s body language and the arrangement of the place settings, so he relinquished the head position to her.

As a member of and current head of the Vulcan diplomatic corp, it was expected that Sarek would host a number of guests, visitors, and diplomats at his homes in great numbers compared to even the most prestigious Vulcan families. Amanda had initially expressed trepidation at the responsibility, but she gained mastery over the skills required in an impressively short time and earned the nickname of “First Lady of Vulcan.” The estate had residence of guests approximately 70% of nights that Sarek was home, and he assumed it was at a higher rate when he was off world without Amanda. More than 80% of their first meals or last meals were shared with visitors or lodgers.

Their guests hailed from every socio-economic level from various planets and colonies. Because the couple had a standing agreement that each could invite meal guests without forewarning or permission (unless the other indicated a desire for a meal to be exclusive to the family), there had been numerous instances of meals with an unconventional mix of guests. Sarek recalled a spirited lunch at their diplomat lodgings on Earth when Sarek had invited a Starfleet admiral on short notice and Amanda had invited a young Catullan man that she introduced as “a musician I met today at Fisherman’s Wharf.” The migrant busker (a self proclaimed pacifist) and the high ranking military official with a wealthy pedigree had vastly different points of view on all of the conversation topics; the only thing on which they agreed was that fish stew served for lunch was supremely palatable. Sarek deemed the conversation at that remarkably short meal to be a fascinating debate.

“Honored guests, Lady Amanda,” Sarek said in greeting. “I inquire as to the location of our son and his colleagues.” 

“Good evening, Sarek. Spock and his friends went for dinner with the rest of the crew at the hotel. Have you met Saavik?”

Saavik looked up from her empty plate quickly and offered the Vulcan salute to Sarek.

“Live long and prosper,” he returned. “I regret that we have never had an introduction. We have met twice, briefly, once during the ceremony.” He noticed her expression; while he would not say that she lacked composure, she did telegraph her thoughts and emotions on her features. “Perhaps you do not remember meeting me when you were a child. Our interaction was quite brief.” Again, her face was animated enough that he determined that she understood the unsaid: he was part of the retrieval mission that rescued her from her birth planet.

“And it’s been so long since we’ve had Daniel and Sorel here for a meal,” Amanda explained. While Sarek agreed that much time had elapsed since the doctor and healer had been to visit, he failed to see the logic in inviting them now. There had been a prodigious number of healers in their house of late, especially those specializing in psiology, psychology, and neurology, and it was unlikely that would change in the near future. He would have expected her to take advantage of one of the very few quiet periods to rest. Where was the logic in, instead, hosting two healers specializing in genetics who did not have the necessary clearance to receive details on Spock’s resurrection on Genesis?

As a staff member placed a salad before each diner, Daniel said to Saavik, “It is good to meet you. Spock has praised your progress over the years. It seems like just yesterday you graduated from the academy, and now you’re a lieutenant?”

Sarek could detect surprise in Saavik’s expression. She had much work remaining in mastering the outward stoicism expected from Vulcans. “Captain Spock has mentioned me to you and Healer Sorel? Including my graduation from the Academy? Why?”

“It is customary to update your close acquaintances on the most important aspects of your life including your children or mentees,” Sorel explained. 

Sarek caught a hint of amusement from Amanda through their bond. “I told you, Saavik,” she said. “He talks about you all the time.”

“He’s very proud of you,” Daniel insisted. Sarek and Sorel both aimed expressions of disapproval at Doctor Corrigan at the faux pas of publicly interpreting a Vulcan’s thoughts through a lens of emotion, but Sarek had to agree. Spock was undoubtedly proud of Saavik. Since Daniel had known Spock from the moment he was born he was adept at understanding the Vulcan’s unexpressed sentiment. Daniel and Sorel had not been Spock’s designated pediatricians, but they had often been consulted in his care. Even into adulthood, Spock’s unique physiology presented puzzles and unexpected traits. His  _ pon farr _ had been so delayed that Sarek had started to hope that his son would have the good fortune to avoid the humiliating affliction altogether.

Understanding hit Sarek like a flash, and Amanda briefly met his eyes. Sorel and Daniel’s presence was indeed quite relevant in Spock’s recovery as they were specialists not just in genetics, but also Vulcan reproduction and fertility. Had Spock experienced  _ pon farr _ during the period of rapid aging? How had it affected him? How would it affect his cycle in the future? Sarek had not considered this aspect of Spock’s ordeal until now as all Vulcans were remarkably skilled at refusing to speak or even think about that most shameful flaw in Vulcan physiology. Even Daniel Corrigan, one of the top two specialists on Vulcan fertility, was unaware of its existence until he had been courting Sorel’s daughter for years.

But no matter how much society wished it were not so,  _ pon farr _ was a normal part of a Vulcan male’s life and required study and consideration. Sarek understood that this was not simply a social visit with the doctor and healer. While he was interested in further acquaintance with Saavik, he desired to speak more freely with the other guests.

Fortunately the conversation was engaging, even if Sarek wished to speak on other topics. Saavik chose to listen more than she participated in the discussion, and Sarek could detect her unease. They did not linger over the meal as they might have if current circumstances were less uncharted.

Saavik was the first to say her farewells. “Lady Amanda, Ambassador Sarek. I am gratified by your invitation and hospitality. I hope that our acquaintance will deepen during my stay on Vulcan.”

“Of course, Saavik.” Amanda smiled. “You’re welcome here anytime day or night that Sarek or I are planetside.”

Saavik nodded and turned to the medical duo. “I am also gratified to be introduced to you. Spock speaks highly of your abilities. If I may request: if you are available for short conversation, will you join me in the front garden?”

Sorel nodded, and Sarek’s flicker of curiosity surprised him. It was not usual for him to wonder at the nature of a private conversation that did not involve him, but he was affected by Amanda’s heightened interest in the forthcoming conversation.

“Healer Sorel, live long and prosper. I will call upon you at your office at your earliest availability,” Sarek said. Vulcans did not do “long goodbyes.” 

“I will have my administrator coordinate with your schedule tomorrow. Daniel, please join Saavik and I for a brief conversation in the front garden.”

Daniel and Amanda hugged, and Amanda escorted the group to the front door. Sarek turned his back to consider Amanda’s rose garden through the large rear windows to avoid the most illogical temptation to watch them through the front. When Amanda joined him, she wrapped her arms around his waist for a brief hug. He indulged in his affection for his wife by returning her embrace.

“Spock messaged. He will be arriving within the hour.”

Sarek was acutely aware that they were alone in the house as he had dismissed the staff after last meal was served. He ran his hands down Amanda’s arms and interlaced his fingers with hers.

_ //I don’t think we have time, _ Amanda said through their bond, sensing a strong wave of desire from her husband.

_ //You underestimate how long it has been since we were last joined. I do not  _ need  _ much time. _ Between their grief over the news of Spock’s death, Sarek visiting Kirk on Earth, and the  _ fal-tor-pan  _ ceremony, it had been a long time indeed.  _ //I want you. Let me show you what I intend. _

“That’s cheating,” Amanda scolded playfully. Spots of color bloomed on her cheeks as Sarek projected graphic images to her, and she pulled his hand to lead him to their bedroom in the farthest wing of the house.

\-------------

In the front garden, Saavik took a deep breath and straightened her tunic. Sorel and Daniel were watching her attentively. “I shall be brief. Lady Amanda invited you tonight to introduce us. I am in need of your services.”

Sorel responded, “I am aware your medical records are unsealed for utilization in Vulcan medical facilities.” He detected that Saavik clenched her jaw, likely in frustration. “I was the primary physician for all of your… brethren who chose to integrate into Vulcan society. Spock consulted my expertise in your youth until you entered the academy.”

_ Does everyone on this planet know my secrets?  _ she thought. Perhaps Vulcans had a different attitude about privacy than she believed.

“Sorry, I’m lost,” Daniel stated. “I sense that I’m missing something here.”

Sorel chose then to remain silent when Saavik wished he’d explain the situation to his partner. She would never be comfortable telling this story. “I am merely half Vulcan.”

“Merely?” Daniel parrotted. 

Saavik ignored it. “If you consent to treat me, your confidence goes beyond the standard doctor-patient laws and regulations. The circumstances surrounding my birth are highly classified.”

Daniel held up a hand to stop her from continuing. He tapped a few times on his PADD, and Sorel, watching over his shoulder, nodded in appreciation.

“I want you to be comfortable in asking whatever you need from us. Please review and sign this.” Daniel offered her the PADD, and Saavik saw one of the standard forms that guaranteed a healer’s adherence to Vulcan privacy laws. She swiped to the second page of the form; as most Vulcan forms were, it was prepopulated from a central database. It listed all people that the healers were allowed to speak with regarding treatment. On Saavik’s form, it listed only Spock, and it was dated before Saavik had reached the age of independence. Daniel had correctly deduced that Saavik hadn’t reviewed the form since she had become an adult.

She removed Spock’s name, and signed and dated the form with her biometrics.

“Daniel has absolute respect for our regulations,” Sorel insisted. “You can trust him, as you can trust all healers on Vulcan. Would you permit me to outline the pertinent details to him?” Saavik nodded. She was finding this to be the most positive interaction she had ever had with healers or doctors.

Once Daniel had an idea about Saavik’s heritage, he took a moment to process it. “I must warn you that we don’t have any experience and scant research on Romulan DNA. If you are interested in exploring genetic recombination for pregnancy, we may need time.”

“It is unfortunate that we do not have time. I am pregnant.”

Sorel and Daniel exchanged glances. She knew that they had been partners for many years and wondered if they shared a psi connection. “The genetic donor is Vulcan?”

Saavik closed her eyes. Spock was no longer the only Human-Vulcan hybrid, and she did not expect these men to make the same leap in logic that Amanda had. Especially as she was unsure if they were familiar with the classified Genesis project and the circumstances of Spock’s resurrection. If not, they would be required to lobby the Federation for the details on the grounds of medical necessity. No one could argue that this team was the best to treat her condition, and she would refuse treatment by anyone else and leak the details if the Federation tried to deny them.

“Half Vulcan.” She opened her eyes, but they were silent, waiting for more details. “Spock. The donor is Spock.”

Sorel quietly absorbed the information, but Daniel said without any shame, “Is this consensual?” Saavik’s expression conveyed distress. “I know you’ve reached the age of independence, but he’s been your guardian since you were a child. Do you understand the term ‘grooming’?”

Saavik contained a gasp, but couldn’t conceal her rage in her words. “He would  _ never-- _ Spock is the most-- how  _ dare _ you?!”  _ I should cut your tongue out of your throat.  _

Sorel interrupted for damage control. “Daniel is correct in asking. You are very young, and Spock is presumably the adult you trust most. Though we accuse Spock of nothing so abhorrent, it is not completely without possibility. You are our patient, and we are required, by law, to ensure your protection, safety, and health.”

Saavik paced, utilizing breathing exercises to gain control of her emotions. After a few moments, she was able to speak in complete sentences, though her rage was barely contained. “Yes, that is logical. Please believe that is not what happened. Spock was never inappropriate with me. I would consent to a mind meld to prove it.”

“That may not be required, but do you realize that targets of grooming often do not realize they are victims?”

_ Kill, slice, hate you. _ Saavik fought her rage with logic. Her rational side understood how the situation must appear to them. Her words came out in a flat, controlled tone. “First, Captain Spock is bonded and has been for my entire life. He does not and has not ever desired… that from me. Second, the situation was dire.  _ Pon farr _ was induced unexpectedly, and I was the only Vulcan available. It was not a situation in which either of us desired to be, and I made the decision to save his life.” Her last statement was in a whisper. “He does not even remember.”

Sorel bowed his head, understanding the solemnity of her words. Daniel just wanted to hug her, but he had learned to control that urge decades ago. She was small for a Vulcan, and seemed so young that he was reminded of his own daughter. He knew the memory of the ordeal and her situation must be incredibly difficult to bear especially without the support of the other involved party. In modern times, a Vulcan male so rarely found himself in a situation where  _ pon farr _ must be endured without his mate. In every case Daniel was aware of, the male’s mate was recently deceased and there had been no time to find a suitable replacement.

“I believe we understand,” he said.

“You lack all of the necessary information to understand,” Saavik countered. She could detect pity in his voice, and her temper threatened to flair out of control. “But there are further complications of which you need to be aware. You will have to petition the Federation for classified information on the Genesis Project _. _ ”

“The hour grows late, and this is not a conversation for such an unsecured location,” Sorel said. He tapped on his PADD to call his aircar to the driveway. “Will you return with us to our medical facility? I have very limited information about Genesis, but that information evinces the need for haste. We can begin the research and start to build a treatment plan tonight.”

“I agree.” She watched an aircar approach, preparing to embark. But she realized it was not Sorel’s car when Admiral Kirk, Doctor McCoy, and Spock stepped out. Seeing Spock elicited a physical reaction: her hands started shaking, her mouth filled with adrenaline, and her feet felt rooted to the dust of Sarek and Amanda’s driveway.

“Shit,” she heard Daniel curse so quietly she barely caught it.

“Admiral, Leonard, Spock,” Sorel greeted. “Live long and prosper.”

The three Starfleet officers returned the salute (though McCoy still could not compel the muscles in his arms and hands to produce the correct configuration). Saavik and Daniel also returned the hand sign.

“Gentlemen, Saavik. Care to join us for a drink?” Kirk said. Saavik found it curious and slightly distasteful that he would invite them in when he was himself a guest in this house.

Daniel jumped in. “Thank you, but we’ve already said our goodbyes. We’ve just been chatting out here, probably too long in fact. T’Mir will be expecting us home, soon.”

“Give her our best,” McCoy said. Saavik detected that his accent was slightly heavier than usual, and the odor of grain alcohol was impossible to ignore. “Haven’t seen her in forever. I need to pay her a visit while I’m here.”

“Of course, Len. Any time.”

“Hey there, sweetheart, how are you holdin’ up?” McCoy asked her, his eyes sparkling. Saavik didn’t have the concentration to be rankled by the designation that McCoy had directed at her. She had locked her eyes on Spock and couldn’t look away, though he was watching the conversation between McCoy and Daniel. He had yet to acknowledge in any way that he regarded her as more than a stranger with which he had a passing acquaintance.

“Saavik?” Kirk said. This drew Spock’s attention to her. She could detect nothing in his expression. He was the picture of Vulcan stoicism.

“We must part ways,” Sorel insisted as his car approached. “I am gratified to encounter the three of you. T’Mir would welcome your calling upon her. Good evening.”

As Daniel and Sorel helped bundle Saavik into the aircar, McCoy, Spock, and Kirk made their way out of the evening that was quickly growing dark. “What’s with her?” Kirk mused.


	4. Chapter 4

Saavik wiped her hands on her gold and green tunic and peered through the doorway into the dining room. She was already regretting her choice of garments: the tunic was light and airy in the Vulcan style. But Amanda and Sarek’s house was currently several degrees colder than most Vulcans would find comfortable. She knew it had not been this chilly during her two previous visits.

But then she hadn’t yet been present in areas of the house occupied by offworlders unacclimated to Vulcan’s hot dry climate. McCoy and Kirk were denizens of Starfleet ships, which Saavik judged to be chilly and slightly more humid than ideal. Fortunately all of her assigned cabin mates on ships had either been non-Humans who hailed from hot worlds with multiple suns or, once, a Human from central Africa whose tolerance was closer to Saavik’s preference. She had not been so fortunate during her Academy years, but those experiences had been valuable lessons in diplomacy. The climate controls were a constant source of friction, and she was guilty of letting her temper reign just as often as her bunkmates, every one human.

A shiver unexpectedly wracked her frame as she peered into the dining room again. “May I offer you a robe, Lieutenant?” Saavik did not successfully contain a flinch at the sound of Spock’s voice behind her. Annoyance at being caught off guard warred with anxiety, and she forced herself to turn and face him. Spock was holding a heavy velvet robe slightly toward her.

“Thank you,” she said, relieved her voice didn’t break. Fortunately her tone sounded like that of someone who was unaffected by his presence. She thought there was no reason for him to suspect that her palms were sweaty and heart rate elevated due to his presence.

“You appear to be suffering from anxiety, Lieutenant.”

She quickly calculated her odds of successfully slipping away from this meal unnoticed, chartering a freighter, and finding the furthest point in the quadrant to start a new life.

The robe was still warm from Spock’s body heat, and Saavik detected his scent just barely lingering. As she took a deep breath to center herself, the edge of another familiar scent caught her attention. James T. Kirk. 

_ Eliminate him. Chase him far away. _

The primal urge took her completely by surprise. She held great respect and admiration for Admiral Kirk’s abilities, career, and legend. They were not on friendly terms, but she did not expect an attitude of familiarity from a high-ranking officer. After Spock’s death, it was Kirk who had “suggested” that Saavik transfer from the Enterprise to the Grissom to work on the Genesis project. It took McCoy’s blend of kind honesty to make her understand: she was a constant reminder of Spock, and it would be best for both parties if she were anywhere except the bridge of the Enterprise. She fostered no ill will toward Admiral Kirk. It had been a logical decision for a grieving Human.

“Lieutenant?” 

“Yes, Captain. Sir. I am… I am unfamiliar with Vulcan high dining etiquette, but it did not seem prudent to be the first guest to arrive at the table.” She took another deep breath and looked upward into his face. But his gaze did not meet hers; he was now looking past her into the dining room. 

“Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda find no logic in miring themselves in ancient rules unless they are hosting ancient Vulcans. You will find that standard Federation customs will suffice.”

Saavik followed him into the dining room, the heavy green robe dragging the stone flooring by a few centimeters. She was relieved to finally have a conversation with Spock, even if it was incredibly brief and lacked the familiarity of the relationship they shared before his death. But she was also relieved to be seated between McCoy and Amanda. Sarek was seated at the head of the table next to McCoy, and the chair between Sarek and Kirk stood empty for Spock.

When she was seated and her borrowed robe arranged to avoid being underfoot, she looked up to watch Spock take his seat next to Kirk. She waited for a vicious , small voice to spit and curse upon seeing the Admiral, but there was only much welcomed silence from her inner hellcat.

But then Kirk raised his eyebrows, eyes twinkling, and smirked at Spock who responded by raising one eyebrow. Saavik was sure she was imagining a slight quirk at the corner of Spock’s lip. “You know, I like you with less clothes, but should I be worried they’ve ended up on her?” he whispered, thought not quiet enough for the Vulcans at the table. 

_ Kill him. Slash those glittering eyes and vulgar tongue. Enemy, intruder, alien. _

“ Honored guests, ” Sarek announced, levelling a disapproving gaze at Kirk. McCoy barely suppressed a snort. “We are gratified by your presence, and especially that of our son.”

Amanda completed the invocation: “We are most pleased by the continued presence of Admiral Kirk and Doctor McCoy. And we welcome you, Saavik, student and friend of Spock.” Saavik sipped her water from the ornate two-handed goblet before her and pondered Amanda’s words. She was not certain that she would have been considered Spock’s friend before his death, but she knew that was not the correct classification now. But Amanda was kind and prone to exaggeration like many Humans.

“So, we haven’t had the chance to catch up. How’s Vulcan?” McCoy asked Saavik, setting his own goblet on the table. McCoy was one of the few people who understood that this was her first time on the planet that most assumed was her birth world.

“It adheres to the specifications listed in all documents and guides that I have read.”

“Yeah, but are you enjoying yourself? Do you like it?”

“Enjoyment is an emo--”

“Emotion… yeah, yeah, I know,” McCoy interrupted. “Is it what you’d always hoped, though?”

She took a moment to consider the question as she took a bite of greenery. “It is… agreeable. But it is also not what I expected.”

“How so?” Amanda asked from Saavik’s other side.

“While I am not yet well-travelled as my Starfleet career has barely started, I can attest that it is dissimilar to any planet I have visited.”

Sarek joined the conversation, “No two planets are identical, so your statement is self-evident.” The more time Saavik spent in Sarek’s company, the more she understood that Spock had been comparatively lax in his expectations from her as a child. Talking to Sarek was an exercise in learning to be brief and precise, and she wondered how Amanda had endured his presence long enough to consent to being his bondmate.

She faced him. “I stated that it was dissimilar to other planets; you err in extrapolating that I envisage a possibility of identical planets.” McCoy didn’t bother hiding his guffaw this time.

Sarek, older and wiser, was not quick to irritate. “I concede. However, I maintain that your statement is self-evident and therefore does little to answer Doctor McCoy’s query.”

“Now wait a minute, don’t drag me into--”

“I disagree,” Saavik argued. She leaned slightly forward towards Sarek, prompting McCoy to scoot his chair back a few centimeters. “Comparisons are a common tool employed in Human conversation, evidenced by their frequent use of metaphors and similes. I could have compared and contrasted Vulcan to Earth’s desert regions as this would be a subclimate with which the Doctor may be familiar.”

“Yet you did not. You stated it is dissimilar to  _ any _ planet you have visited, including Earth. This suggests that you do not regard Shi’Kahr to be similar to Death Valley or the Sahara. I suspect that you have not visited either of these regions.”

“I have not. You may not understand that the schedule of a cadet of the Starfleet command program is rigorous with only short periods of time in which one could travel to experience diverse regions of Earth’s climate. But you have made another error in thinking that I was referring primarily to comparison in climates.”

“You were the person that introduced the climate comparison in the discussion,” Sarek replied. Perversely, his continued stoicism served to impel her intensity.

“I posit that you are being deliberately captious!”

“You know what, I forget I asked,” McCoy groused. He had been waiting for Spock to reign Saavik in, but Spock was silently working through his salad. “Stars above, you two.”

Saavik raised an eyebrow at Sarek but ceased to continue the argument. Sarek raised a wooly gray eyebrow in response, but similarly conceded. Amanda huffed out a silent laugh, and Saavik felt a blush heat her cheeks. She knew it was rude by both Federation and Vulcan customs to argue with your host over a meal.

“I’m not skilled in debate,” Amanda said. “So, I think Sarek has missed this kind of discourse since Spock left for Starfleet.”

“I have not.”

She continued, “He and Spock would have spirited conversation at last meal until I abandoned them and went to bed. They’d still be at it when I’d sit down for first meal the next morning.”

“Surely you exaggerate, Mother,” Spock insisted.

“Oh I’m sure she doesn’t!” McCoy bayed. “I’d leave the bridge in the middle of an argument between you two,” McCoy used his fork to gesture at Kirk and Spock, “and come back up hours later, and you’d still be at it.”

“What can I say?” Kirk replied, smiling fondly. “Spock’s a skilled orator.” He winked at Spock who responded with a raised eyebrow and slight head bobble.

Something in that silent exchange was like a puzzle piece slotting into place in Saavik’s mind. There was familiarity and fondness between the two of them that transcended death and resurrection. To Saavik, Spock was like a sketch of his former self, like someone programmed an android with all of Spock’s skills and knowledge, but none of his personality. But in Kirk’s light, he was  _ more _ . More engaged, more loquacious, more present, more… Spock.

And she knew now what she had to do. Or rather: what she could not do. This dinner had been designed by Amanda to provide an opportunity for Saavik to inform Spock about the pregnancy. Going into the meal, Saavik still had not decided if she was ready to reveal it, but if she wished, she could invite Spock to a private conversation at the conclusion of the meal.

But Spock had far to go yet in his recovery. His mind and memories strengthened with every passing hour, but life is long and the days are short. She suspected it would be months or years until he returned to his full self, if ever. 

Untold numbers of people had grieved Spock’s passing and rejoiced in his return. But those closest to him were relegated to a paradox of limbo: they had him back, but they were still waiting for his return. 

Saavik had personally witnessed how the grief had affected Kirk. And now the admiral was navigating the loss of a son he’d barely known and this unorthodox return of his partner. Informing Spock of this pregnancy would greatly disrupt his recovery. The probability was high that the information could derail his progress in rebuilding his relationships including the friendship with McCoy. Saavik had noticed a new connection between McCoy and Spock. They still argued and sniped, but McCoy exhibited protective and possessive tendencies that she had not witnessed before Genesis. While it was possible this had been their relationship before, Saavik knew from her research that carrying another’s katra affected the vessel’s understanding and opinion of the deceased and were themselves permanently altered.

There was no research she could access that predicted how the bond between Kirk and Spock had been altered by the experience, especially considering that Kirk had not been the vessel for Spock’s katra. Clearly the bond had survived, but the two men were striving to regain what they had had.

Saavik would not introduce a new complication to a tenuous situation. She was a minor character in Spock’s cast of acquaintances, and the odds that the fetus would not survive to viability were extremely high anyway.

Finally: Saavik already bore the responsibility for David’s death. She would not be the cause of any further anguish for Admiral Kirk. She would quash her desire to rebuild her relationship with Spock and endure the pregnancy without him.

Saavik was withdrawn throughout the rest of the meal. Both McCoy and Amanda attempted to draw her into conversation, and Sarek tried to bait her into discourse a few more times. (She suspected that Amanda’s assessment was correct: Sarek craved spirited debate). Kirk was polite but distant when conversing with her, and Spock refrained from conversing with her entirely.

After the final course of sweet fruit (the smell of which caused Saavik a cramp of nausea), Saavik expressed gratitude and made her farewells. “Spock, please escort our guest to the door,” Amanda stated. She stood and pulled Saavik into an embrace quicker than the Vulcan could dodge it. “Stay as long as you need,” the matriarch whispered.

When Saavik pulled back and glanced at Spock, she thought she caught a glare slipping off Kirk’s face. “I can see the Lieutenant out,” Kirk offered.

“I wish to attend the task, Jim,” Spock countered. “I will join you in our rooms afterwards.”

Saavik tried to ignore Amanda’s intense stare as she walked ahead of Spock to the front door of the large house. When they reached it, instead of opening the door, she turned to face him. “Captain Spock, I am honored by your family’s invitation to dine tonight.”

Spock glanced up at the space above the door where he knew a camera was installed. While his memories assured him that his mother was usually respectful of boundaries, she had clearly been invested in this conversation, and this was a conversation he wished to keep completely private. He opened his arm towards a door just to the side of the front door that Saavik had assumed to be a coat closet or powder room. Instead, when she opened the door, she found a very small but elegantly furnished sitting room just large enough for three people to converse comfortably.

As he shut the door to seal out the rest of the world, her resolve wavered. Perhaps his memories of her, of what they were before Genesis, had returned. She both yearned for that and dreaded it. If he only remembered her as his student, the pregnancy introduce an element of discord to that relationship.

“Captain Spock?”

“Lieutenant Saavik.” It was all he said before lapsing into silence. She sought the patience necessary to let him continue, but was lacking.

“I will not return here if that is your preference.” / “I owe you my life.” The two sentences were spoken in tandem. 

Saavik blinked quickly and tilted her head. Her immediate thought was a memory of their very first meeting when she saved him from a small savage boy holding a makeshift knife to his throat. “Please elaborate.”

“I shall,” Spock said. “But you may visit this house any time you wish, especially at Sarek or mother’s invitation. You do not have to refuse an invitation because you believe I prefer it. However, I will admit that being in your company is… difficult.”

Saavik felt her chest tighten. “I apologize. I do not wish to cause you despair.”

“Your apology is not logical. You do not cause me to feel despair.”

“Yes, of course, that is an emotion. My apologies.”

“Saavik, you do elicit other emotions that I find difficult to suppress,” he admitted quietly. She was unable to process the multitude of her own emotions that his statement caused. “I am aware that we have a history. We were close friends, and it is evident I trusted you greatly.”

“I do not believe you would have classified us as friends. And I regret that I broke your trust many times. Once resulting in great consequence.” Why had her time on this planet forced her to confront her greatest shames on a near constant basis? “You speak as if you have learned this information rather than as if you remember it.”

“It is true that I have not yet recalled memories of our relationship… before.” He hadn’t been looking directly at her throughout the conversation, but now he turned his back on her completely. He folded his hands behind his back and gazed at a flickering flameless candle in the wall sconce before him. “My memories of my time spent on the Genesis Planet are currently my most vivid. Though some periods when I was experiencing fever are distorted like the memory of a dream. I remember the intense blizzard and the fires of the planet’s death throes. And I remember two kind strangers who I know now to be David Marcus and you.”

“You say that I evoke your emotions,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She did not want to ask, but she had to know. “What do you feel?”

He bowed his head. “Guilt. Shame. Abashment. Embarrassment.” 

Saavik stood from the plush couch and grabbed for the door handle. “You must understand…” He insisted as he pushed on the door, jerking the handle from her grip when it slammed shut. “Saavik!”

“I understand, Spock. I do. Please,” she let out a sob that ended in a growl as she tugged on the handle. “Let me leave!”

“Wait, Saavik.” He pushed himself between her and the door, and she stepped back in a crouch. Her respiratory rate was elevated 120%, fingers curved into claws, and eyes were rimmed a deep olive. When she pulled her lips back slightly, revealing her clenched teeth, he reflexively took two steps away from the door, away from this feral creature before him.

With instincts she had kept mostly subdued for years, she darted for the door, escaping his reach like a slithering thing. With a graceful twist, she pulled the door open far enough to slip through while dragging her foot to hook his and pull him off balance. His reflexes were quick enough to keep him from going down, but the moment of imbalance was all she needed. Before he could right himself to trail her, she was out of the sitting room and out of the front door.

He ran to follow, but the moonless night seemed impenetrable outside of the tight ring of light surrounding the house. Sarek had refrained from lighting the untouched land surrounding the estate as he was conscious of the scourge of light pollution. Spock’s night vision was inferior to most Vulcans’, but he ran out into the inky night without direction anyway, seeking Saavik.

The chase ended when he stumbled on a pile of cloth: the heavy robe he had lent her for last meal. It was laying in the middle of his blindly chosen path which led towards the city.

At the sound of footsteps behind him, Spock turned, gratified and disappointed to see that it was Jim who approached. “Spock?”

“I did not successfully convey my thoughts to Lieutenant Saavik. She exited abruptly and is presumably returning to the city on foot.”

Jim looked out into the night, starlight and stray flood lights surrounding the house just enough to sketch the dramatic landscape surrounding the estate. A few hard top roads snaked through the terrain, but nature was in control of the rest. Jim tapped his teeth with his thumbnail for a moment, quickly running through their options.

“Well, you’re not following on foot. Today has been a lot of activity for you, and you’re exhausted.” He wrapped his arm around Spock, letting the taller man lean against his studier frame. “C’mon back. Saavik is extremely capable of handling this terrain. I watched her beat the pants off every person she squared off against on the rock climbing wall.”

“We must retrieve her. This region is home to 17 venomous nocturnal animals, and dozens more animals that are deadly by force alone.”

“Spock!” Amanda called, running down the driveway to meet the men. “What was that?”

Spock pulled away from Jim’s grip and stood tall. “Saavik is distressed and is fleeing on foot. I believe her destination is the city, but she may be acting without thought.”

Amanda gasped and turned to Sarek. “Get the aircar and get her. At least take her back to the hotel.”

“Amanda,” Sarek countered, ”she is a Starfleet officer with years of field training. Spock has described her superlative survival skills. If she wishes to venture on foot--”

“Go get her!”

Sarek turned without further argument and proceeded to the garage. At Jim’s urging, Spock made his way into the house, peering into the night over his shoulder. Several memories were on the verge of his attention, but none would coalesce fully. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing running out into the night like that?”

“Bones, just back off a little.”

Amanda sat on the couch on Spock’s side, Jim on the other. McCoy perched on a low table in front of the couch. “What happened?” Amanda asked gently.

“She took great offense to my words as I did not choose them with an appropriate degree of precision of articulateness. In her distress, she fled the house.”

Amanda bit her lip, trying to work out whether Spock would be forthcoming with the subject of their disagreement in front of Jim and Leonard. “What was the nature of the conversation?”

“I wished to convey to her that I have not yet recalled any memory of our relationship before, but I do remember the period on Genesis clearly. It is… disturbing to me that she is responsible for my surviving the ordeal, yet I have no recall of this person to whom I owe my life. I am… ashamed.”

Amanda’s expression of concern did nothing to ease his turmoil. “Spock, those memories will return. It’s not your fault, baby. Did she say anything to you? Reveal anything?”

“The conversation lasted only moments. I received no response from her other than a desire to terminate the conversation, though she did express her willingness to distance herself from this property if I wished it.”

“And do you?” Jim asked. “She causes you a lot of heartache, so maybe it’s good to limit your interaction with her until your memories return.”

“Heartache?” Spock questioned.

Amanda wished to enfold Spock in her arms and sooth him with a lullaby. “This has all been so difficult for everyone, not just you three. But she idolizes you. Give her time to process this, and give yourself the same. And you will both eventually be ready to talk.”

Spock sighed. “We must consider the possibility that my memories of her before Genesis will not resurface.”

“Then you’ll start over, son.”

“Look at it this way,” McCoy said, his gentle bedside manner kicking in. “You’re not the first person ever to lose his memory. Total amnesia is rare, but others have lived through it. Saavik’s real special, and if you have to start over with her, you should. Trust me,” he tapped his temple. “I know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sarek found her a short distance from the main house on the hardtop road leading to the city, as he expected. He believed that eventually her logic would prevail. If her survival skills were as exceptional as Spock had claimed in his letters to home, she would know that the roadway was the safest route.

As he pulled the aircar beside her, he could detect that she radiated fury. “Saavik, please embark upon the aircar,” he commanded out of the open passenger door. She responded by clenching her fists and accelerating her pace.

Sarek suppressed a sigh. He’d been in this situation with his human wife and emotional children numerous times, but he had failed to ever determine the ideal argument that would impel someone to get into an aircar when they were determined not to.

“I do not know what has transpired to cause you such turmoil, but there is no logic in attempting the trek into the city on foot at night when you are ill prepared for the journey. For example, you lack adequate protective gear to comfortably endure the cold front that is forecasted to arrive in approximately one hour thirteen minutes.”

Saavik glanced at the stars. In the western sky, they twinkled at an increased tempo that indicated that the oncoming cold front was likely to cause a dust storm. She considered the open passenger door of the aircar, and wondered if a dust storm, even one as violent as Vulcan’s, would be worth enduring rather than suffering a period of time in an enclosed space with Sarek.

Ultimately she got into the aircar, but it was a close thing. After buckling in, she stared resolutely out of the passenger window at the distant city lights.

“What is our destination?” She turned to with a look of surprise on her face. “I did say that I would take you to your hotel if you desired. Do you believe that I would lie?”

“I do not know what to believe, as Spock has spoken about you and Lady Amanda rarely. But it is logical that a man as great as Spock would be raised by parents of great integrity. I would be grateful if you would return me to the hotel.”

Sarek accelerated and surprised Saavik by remaining silent. Her anger was quickly giving way to sorrow and humiliation, and she realized that Sarek may be expecting an apology. “I am grateful for the invitation. I do not think I will be welcome again, and I must apologize for causing tension.”

“Must you?” he asked. His eyes remained on the road. “I will accept an apology for your failure to suppress your powerful emotions, though it is not necessary. But an argument requires at least two parties, and you cannot apologize on his behalf.”

“I  _ do _ believe it necessary to express my regret at my lapse. I am experiencing a difficult situation, though I know that difficulty does not excuse an emotional outburst.”

“Surak teaches us that control is the most valuable during difficult times,” he offered. 

She did not respond, choosing to ruminate on Surak’s teachings and how she constantly failed to achieve what she strived for. At last, Sarek’s car pulled into the covered drive of the hotel. As she exited, he called to her.

“Saavik, you are far from the first dinner guest to flee from my house after an emotional discussion. Indeed my children and wife have exerted excess force on that front door while in an agitated state too many times to recall. You are welcome to return at any point in the future. Live long and prosper.”

Saavik was almost too stunned to return the greeting. “Peace and long life, Ambassador Sarek.”

She entered the hotel, shivering slightly as the air was maintained a few degrees below the range that was comfortable for Vulcans. She stopped in her tracks suddenly, causing a staff member to narrowly avoid colliding with her with an antigrav luggage cart. Sarek’s words were echoing in her head, but one particular word struck her:

“ _ Children ?” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this author reluctantly accept Sybok as canon as much as we all want to erase Star Trek V from the universe. And I love Michael Burnham and Discovery with a passion.


	6. Chapter 6

“My wife, you have a secret.”

“I am a woman of many secrets.” Sitting at her vanity, Amanda dodged Sarek’s statement and continued to brush her long white hair in preparation for bed.

“Few of which you now keep from me, and none of which you have ever successfully kept from me for an extended period.” He turned down the thin linen blanket on her side of the bed, then moved around to activate the warming mattress pad on his side. He stripped down and situated himself among the plush bedclothes.

Amanda soon joined him, though she wore a gossamer pajama set, eschewing nudity in case she was needed by one of the house guests. “And what do you imagine I’m hiding from you?” She knew it was futile to keep anything from Sarek as he would be able to pick up her stray thoughts through their bond. She had only avoided revealing the details out of respect for Saavik’s privacy.

“It is about our son. Please, I would have there be nothing untold between us, and I cannot shed my worry for Spock’s wellbeing,” he said, turning in his side to face her. 

Even without their close psychic bond, Amanda would have been able to pick up on Sarek’s anxiety. He had succeeded remarkably at suppressing his outward fear, frustration, and worry while the healers were present, but the force of those emotions was preventing him from achieving total control. “Computer, lights.” She found these conversations to be easier in the dark.

“I was waiting to see how tonight went before telling you, husband. It’s a matter between Saavik and Spock, and I was hoping they could discuss it and come up with a plan.”

“I suspect this night did not end the way you had hoped.”

Amanda sighed. “Not at all. Spock’s rapid aging on the Genesis planet, forcing him through childhood all the way to adulthood…” She paused, unsure of how to proceed. The Vulcan taboo around  _ pon farr _ was so extreme that Sarek often had difficulty talking about his own fever, even to his wife.

Fortunately, Sarek had lived among humans long enough to gain an appreciation for their ability to make leaps in logic. Her tendency to “skip steps” during predictive reasoning had rubbed off on him.

“Saavik was the only female available to him,” he stated into the dark.

“I’m surprised it was ‘the female’ he was drawn to, really.”

“She was the only Vulcan.” A stricken expression crossed his face, unseen. “Do you know whether she entered the situation willingly?”

Amanda found Sarek’s hand and pulled it to her chest, gripping it in both of her smaller, fine-boned hands. He squeezed her fingers gently. “She did, husband. She recognized what was happening, and guided him through it. In fact, she’s struggling with the idea that  _ she _ took advantage of  _ him _ in an uninformed, vulnerable state.”

He was quick to respond. “She saved his life. He certainly would have perished without her making that decision for him.”

“Nonetheless, it’s a gray area. She was in an impossible situation, and did the best she could, but that doesn’t mean she’s proud of it.”

“I am grateful to her but regret that she was forced to make such a decision. Spock has stated that he clearly remembers most of his time on Genesis.”

“And that’s what makes it all the more difficult for her. He remembers the Fever but he still hasn’t been able to access memories of her from before. She’s suffering this alone.”

“The most logical course of action would be to have her spend as much time here as possible to help repair those memory engrams. She deserves to regain a place his life.”

“I’d intended to move her onto the estate, if not the house, but that was before tonight happened. After what he said, I think it would cause her unnecessary stress to live under the same roof.”

“You are being too cautious, my wife. Remember she is Vulcan: facing our emotions and overcoming them is a source of pride. Stress is a necessary aspect of life.”

“Not for a pregnant woman.”

In the silence that followed, Amanda thought that she may have heard Sarek’s breath hitch a few times. Finally, he pressed the manual control for the lights and sat up against the headboard. “This is…” She had so rarely witnessed him at a loss for words through their entire courtship and marriage.

She tried to complete his thought: “Wonderful, devastating, problematic?”

“Logical,” he insisted. “She is in the beginning of her prime fertile years, and Romulan DNA is so similar to Vulcan DNA. And we have personally witnessed how the Human factor is not a hindrance to the creation of a zygote.” Amanda quietly let him process the news. She knew he found comfort in science, in facts and statistics. “This is a logical explanation for her actions this evening. I assume Spock does not view the news as fortuitous.”

“She hasn’t told him. Before dinner, she told me she hadn’t even decided  _ if _ she was going to tell him.”

“He must know. He has that right.” Sarek had experienced first-hand how disruptive and shocking it was to learn about the existence of offspring far later than ideal. He had never forgiven T'Rea for denying him the right to be present in Sybok’s formative years of childhood.

“Normally I’d agree. But Spock’s recovery has too many unknowns. No one knows how shocking news like this could throw him into disarray.” At her words, a frown touched Sarek’s lips as he stared into the middle distance. “Both Vulcan and Human women have endured pregnancy without a male’s assistance for millenia. She’s so strong, Sarek.”

When Amanda sniffed, fighting against tears, he extended an arm and pulled her to his side. “Yes, we must consider Spock’s recovery. I will comply with whatever actions that you deem necessary for his recovery as you are the galaxy’s foremost expert on Spock.”

“Only because I have such an excellent research assistant.” She teased as she ran her hands through the dark hair on his chest. Soberly, she added, “I’ve made plenty of my own mistakes with him. With all of our children, but I’m going to do everything I can to get him through this.” Her hand dipped unconsciously to her stomach. “You know, It’s unlikely that she’ll carry to term.”

“I am aware. The potential difficulties are likely to resolve naturally.”

Amanda pushed up to kiss Sarek on the lips. “Sarek, husband, I love you. But may I recommend that you refrain from referring to the pregnancy as ‘potential difficulties’ within Saavik’s hearing?”

“Wise advice. I am well aware of the physical pain that she is capable of inflicting.” He turned his arm over to display a scar on the inside of his forearm. It was faint but the crescent shape was perceptible and distinctive. “I earned this on the rescue mission when she was a child.”

“She bit you?!” Amanda tried to stifle a laugh. “What did you do?”

“I attempted to introduce her to grooming habits. Specifically the use of a hairbrush.”


	7. Chapter 7

Saavik stepped off of the metal ramp of the Bird of Prey into the dust and tugged on her red tunic. While there was comfort in doffing the uniform for the first time in months, she was dismayed to discover it didn’t fit her hips and torso as perfectly as it had before.

She had been following a strict conditioning routine since her arrival on Vulcan. She found a certain inexplicable comfort in the planet’s gravity, as if it were built into her DNA. But the slight increase in her caloric intake and her slightly distended abdomen would have caused her to alter her uniform replicator’s settings if she’d been aboard a starship. Already, she was regretting her decision to stuff herself into the uniform just to bid farewell to Admiral Kirk and his crew.

During the period that he and his crew found sanctuary on Vulcan, she had been able to ignore her forced leave of absence from Starfleet. Almost every day she could be found with the Starfleet officers as they prepared the Klingon ship for the journey to Earth. Spock spent most days retraining his mind and building physical strength in Vulcan facilities, and on the occasions he visited the Klingon ship, Saavik would employ a predetermined excuse to be elsewhere.

Chekov had solved a dilemma for her a few days before the Enterprise crew’s scheduled departure.

“We really could use you at comms, Lieutenant,” Sulu insisted. They were taking a meal break while watching McCoy graffiti the ship with red paint.

“I’m sure every  _ keptain _ in the fleet is fighting over her, Hikaru. After all, it’s lucky to have a Wulcan aboard.” As Chekov offered her a reassuring smile, she understood why it was described as “boyish,” even though his hair was graying. “You’ll get your orders when the time is right. I don’t blame you for staying here a little while longer instead of riding in this rusty thing.”

A lie by omission was still a lie, but it was a tactic frequently employed by Vulcans when dealing with humans. In the end, she had simply refrained from elaborating on the reason why she had yet to receive her next assignment.

But as the winds from the departing ship buffeted her and Amanda, she was forced to face her new reality. For the foreseeable future, she was grounded, separated from her stars while Spock was out there among them. At a time in her career when she should be vying for the opportunity to face uncertainty and danger on away missions, she would be squaring off with healers and their invasive instruments and tests almost daily.

Saavik touched Amanda’s shoulder when she noticed a tear wetted the older woman’s cheek. “Come, Amanda, I will drive us home.” Amanda had never been successful at learning to operate a Vulcan aircar, and Sarek had travelled to Earth ahead of the Enterprise crew to argue on their behalf. Under Sarek’s instruction, Saavik had learned to operate the vehicle in a short time, and she reveled in the activity.

Amanda gripped her safety restraint as Saavik navigated the canyon roadway. As they took a tight blind corner, Amanda gasped. Saavik glanced over to see the Human’s eyes tightly shut. “Lady Amanda, did you and Sarek agree on the specifications on this vehicle?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Amanda breathed out. “Would you  _ please _ slow down.”

“Very well.” Saavik allowed friction to decelerate the aircar by a few dozen kilometers per hour. “This vehicle has remarkable safety features. I would have assumed that you requested the most advanced technology as Sarek is an excellent pilot.”

“I vaguely remember a discussion about purchasing a new aircar, but I left it completely up to my husband. I never got the hang of Vulcan aircars.”

Saavik itched to push the vehicle, but restrained herself out of respect for Amanda’s comfort. Soon, she was pulling the car into the garage. “When are you expecting Sarek to return to Vulcan?” She offered her arm to Amanda as she disembarked. Guilt flooded her mind as she felt the slight tremor in Amanda’s grip.

“No sooner than three weeks. He has an abundance of meetings scheduled because he’s been away from Earth for too long. I bet he will barely get any sleep.”

Saavik pulled her large Starfleet issue duffle from the luggage compartment of the car and followed Amanda into the house. “Then it is fortuitous that I am on premise to act as your driver.”

The gleam in Saavik’s eyes made Amanda nervous. “Oh, there is no need. Tukel is available to drive me during working hours, and there are on demand shuttle services available the rest of the time.”

“It is the least I can do to repay your kindness in offering me lodgings on your estate.” Saavik deposited her duffel on the floor of the kitchen and aimed directly for the food replicator.

“Tell me why you didn’t train as a pilot, again?” Amanda laughed in spite of herself.

After washing her hands in the sonic, Saavik started scrolling through the extensive list of meals, items, and beverages programmed into the unit. “I gave serious consideration to that path, but my entrance exam scores were insufficient. That is easily explained when one considers I had never piloted a vehicle of any kind before the exam. My marks in xenobiology, linguistics, astrophysics, and strategic planning were above satisfactory, so the command track was the obvious choice.”

Saavik selected a lentil curry from the menu along with a strongly spiced red tea. She noticed only after making the selection that the combination was one which she had frequently relied on in her academy days. Nostalgia was illogical, so she reasoned it must be that the combination was familiar and she was too hungry to keep scrolling. “May I request an afternoon meal for you?”

“Just the black tea in speed dial four, please.” As Saavik situated herself at the small table in the dining alcove, Amanda wrapped her hands around the mug. “Computer, environmental setting one. Since our human guests have vacated, there’s no need to keep the house so cold.”

“Please do not alter your environment controls on my behalf. I have become acclimated to the standard Starship climate.” Amanda noted that Saavik also gripped her own mug in both hands.

“Even a human cannot live on Vulcan as long as I have without becoming used to dry heat. With the boys gone, you’re my only house guest.” She sipped her tea and looked out into her sprawling rose garden as Saavik puzzled over Amanda’s diminutive descriptor of McCoy and Kirk who were both well past middle age. “You say that command was the obvious choice, but is it what you wanted?”

“What I desire is inconsequential compared to where I may be of the most use to Starfleet. And Starfleet has no shortage of pilots.”

“Well, Sulu will eventually promote out from behind the helm, so Starfleet will be short one excellent pilot.”

“I could not begin to compare my own skills to Commander Sulu’s. And Commander Chekov insists that Sulu is only viewed as an exemplary pilot because of his reliance on skilled navigators, though I cannot understand how that may be true.”

Amanda’s bark of laughter indicated to Saavik that she had been misinformed or had mistaken Chekov’s jest for sincerity. 

Amanda smirked. “To use a scientific term, Chekov is what I call a bullshitter, though I mean it in the nicest way. Don’t trust a word out of that man’s mouth.”

Saavik’s look of alarm caused another incident of laughter from her hostess. “That is most disturbing! Militaries greatly rely on a sense of trust among the personnel to function. If Commander Chekov’s colleagues cannot trust his judgement or evaluation of a situation, he should be removed from service. I was under the impression that he was Spock’s student long before I was.”

Amanda refrained from reaching across the table to grasp Saavik’s hands, but just barely. “It has been too long since I had someone as inquisitive and trusting as you under my roof. I’m going to enjoy this so much.”

Saavik blinked, uncertain of how to respond. So she reverted to a familiar tactic from her youth while living under Spock’s tutelage: unending questions. “If I permitted another query: I am familiar with the term ‘bullshit’ only in the explicative manner. Can you expand on the scientific usage of the term?”


	8. Chapter 8

They sat close together on the couch, watching the broadcasts intently. When one channel would fail, they would scan frequencies until they found another that was still operational. The reports coming in prompted more questions than they answered, but all of them reported a few key details consistently: an unknown probe was on trajectory towards Earth disabling every ship, station, or planet that it closely passed. Lives lost as a result of life support failure or weather catastrophes numbered in the millions. The probe failed to respond to hails in any language or frequency and was impenetrable to weapons.

Saavik allowed Amanda to grip her wrist, providing the older woman any amount of comfort she could find. Amanda had sent a priority one message to Sarek’s office on Earth as Saavik composed a short message to Healer Sorel and Doctor Corrigan’s practice to cancel her daily appointment.

Subspace communication was in chaos, and Spock was travelling on a cloaked ship, so they had no idea about the welfare of either Vulcan. Tears flowed freely down Amanda’s cheeks, and Saavik stared wide-eyed and unblinking at the viewscreen. The house staff had gathered in the large entertainment bay of the house with them to watch the reports on frequencies that were restricted to high ranking Federation officials.

The probe had simply approached Earth too quickly, too stealthily to allow for evacuation or preparation. It was fortunate for Vulcan that the probe’s approach trajectory did not bring it near their planet. But at least two Vulcan science vessels were reported to have been completely disabled by the probe.

So the household, the planet, and other Federation planets and surviving vessels could only watch in fear and horror as the events unfolded.

“I have always had difficulty sensing him across our bond so far away,” Amanda confessed in a whisper.

“You would feel it if something dire happened to Ambassador Sarek,” Saavik responded with fabricated confidence.

Almost four hours after the probe reached Earth, Amanda and Saavik gasped simultaneously. “Spock!” Saavik croaked. She experienced the termination of his presence even stronger than she had upon his death after the battle with Khan, perhaps because it was instantaneous where the previous incident had been a slow fade.

“No! Spock!” Amanda sobbed. Saavik pulled Amanda into an embrace as the woman withered and collapsed. 

Saavik wished the household staff would dissipate to let them grieve. Just as the desire coalesced in her mind, a strange sensation overwhelmed her. Through her confusion and shock, she estimated that Amanda had also experienced it as well when the woman jolted in her grip.

“What is-- Saavik, what was that?” she asked, her breath still hitching.

“I am uncertain. I have never experienced nor do I have knowledge of such a sensation.”

“But you feel him, too? Spock is there in your mind?” Amanda’s words were frantic. She creased Saavik’s gown in her grip.

“I do. He is alive. Amanda, I do not know how, but Spock lives!”

Amanda pulled Saavik into a hug, her tears turned from sorrow to joyful relief. Saavik had to squeeze her eyes tightly to suppress her own tearful expression.


	9. Chapter 9

Sarek, in an uncharacteristically sloppy gesture, dropped his luggage to the floor of the foyer to gather his tearful wife in his arms as she launched herself into him. “Beloved, I am gratified by your greeting, but I must breathe, and you are restricting my airflow.” In contrast to his words, he made no move to push her away.

“You’re home early! I did not expect you for another few hours!” She laced her fingers through his and pulled him into a deep kiss, unrepentant for her public display when staff could interrupt at any moment.

“I made use of my status to bypass starbase intake and beamed directly to the transporter station in Shi’khar.”

Amanda disentangled herself from Sarek and tugged his hand to direct him to the kitchen dining alcove. “You must be tired from your journey.”

“I am not.”

“Liar. Interplanetary travel is always tiring.” She dialed in a selection at the replicator and set the steaming mug before him.

“Cafe mocha? You indulge me needlessly. I chartered transport on a science vessel travelling directly from Earth to Vulcan, so the journey was not so taxing.” He employed enough restraint to avoid finishing the mug too quickly. “Spock sends a message. He instructed me to tell you that he feels fine.” Amanda’s sparkling laugh gave Sarek the impression of feeling somehow lighter. “I suspected that this was a private joke between you.”

“It seems he’s continuing to improve and regain parts of his old self. Did he actually time travel? Again?”

“I can think of no other logical way he could have acquired two Humpback whales in what we perceived to be only a moment. It was an incredible risk.”

“Do you expect anything less from Admiral Kirk?”

“Captain Kirk, actually.” Sarek finished his mocha and considered requesting another, but refrained when the combination of sugar and intoxicating chocolate disrupted his orientation momentarily. “Are we still hosting Saavik?”

Amanda nodded towards a wall of transparent aluminum. It gave a sprawling view of the estate with its desert vistas. The canyons and towering spires gave way to a stretch of flat land that bordered the L-langon mountains. During Vulcan’s rare rains, the expanse would turn into a shallow lake that acted as a reflection pool for the mountains.

The lakebed was dry and cracked now. Contrails of orange dust rose in plumes behind a metallic sky blue aircar speeding over the flat land. So much dust was hanging in the air that it was evident to Sarek that this activity had been occurring for no short time.

“That is my car.” A frown touched the corner of his lips.

“A logical deduction, husband. She was getting cabin fever, and it makes her happy.”

“She is welcome to go anywhere in the city or region that she pleases at a reasonable velocity.” He punched up the application on his PADD that allowed him to remotely monitor the aircar. “That is  _ not _ a reasonable velocity.” He tipped the PADD so that Amanda could see the speedometer readout.

Sarek pressed a button and used the inbuilt tripod to set the PADD on the table as a viewer. After a moment, Saavik appeared on the PADD in a window. On the informational side panel, the speedometer showed the aircar was gently decelerating.

“Greetings, Sarek.” Saavik’s voice was devoid of emotion, but her eyes seemed to sparkle. She wore a cage-like helmet that conformed to her skull and a thick padded collar around her neck. At the edge of the screen’s field of view, Sarek could see she wore the secure, full-torso webbing restraint rather than the belt style safety restraint designed for daily use.

“Have you abandoned your Starfleet career with an intent to join a motorsports team?”

Saavik frowned. “That would be a highly illogical career path.”

“Then have you abandoned reason? Please, return to the estate immediately.”

Saavik nodded and set in a course for the garage with just a few button pushes. Sarek ended the call then entered an override code on the PADD that allowed him to set the car’s settings to autopilot.

“Why did you allow this?” Sarek questioned. The set of his wife’s lips and shoulders alerted him that his words had triggered what could turn into an argument.

“She’s a grown woman. She’s our guest, not a prisoner.”

Sarek chose to respond in the most frustrating way possible: by leaving the table. 

Throughout their marriage, difficulties had abounded. They were two people from vastly different cultures navigating expectations, norms, and customs the other could not be aware of or understand. Love and communication had pulled them through, but there were just some issues that had lingered. Their most damaging arguments and issues stemmed from Sarek’s sense of superiority and Amanda’s inconsistency in standing up for her principles.

This moment was a culmination of those issues: Sarek stood by the kitchen entrance, awaiting Saavik’s arrival, and Amanda left the kitchen, unable to muster the energy to participate. She opened the doors leading from the entertainment room to the back garden to allow the cooling evening air into the house and slumped into a lounge chair.

Saavik entered the kitchen, finger combing her sweat soaked curls. “Please explain your illogical behavior,” Sarek demanded of her.

Saavik poured herself a glass of water and drank half of it down in one breath before deigning to answer Sarek. “I have confirmed that I am not quitting Starfleet.” 

“You are being vexacious. Why would you pilot a vehicle at such an extreme velocity?”

“I have piloted vessels upwards of warp 7.4. 150 kilometers per hour is hardly extreme in comparison.” She finished her glass and refilled it.

He pressed, “It is very irresponsible to drive a planet-bound aircar at that speed. You are aware of this.” Amanda glanced over her shoulder at her husband to see he had his hands steepled before him. It was a dead giveaway to her that he was working hard to maintain his control.

“Ambassador Sarek, are you in the habit of making expensive purchases without diligently researching the product?”

Sarek lifted an eyebrow and her apparent non sequitur. “An irrelevant question. But no, I research goods thoroughly before committing to them.”

“Then why do you maintain that driving your car at high speeds is irresponsible? Where is the logic in purchasing a vehicle with triple redundant safety features, capable of speeds that exceed maximum limits permitted on public lands, with enough torque to require space grade inertial dampeners if you do not intend to utilize such features?”

Amanda groaned, barely resisting the urge to cover her ears like a child. This argument was shaping up to be the kind that Vulcans could continue for hours unbroken.

“You are not considering that the redundant safety features are not available on factory models except those capable of such speed and power. The safety of my most frequent passenger is paramount.”

“Yet you have purchased  _ additional  _ protective gear designed to be worn while operating the vehicle at top speeds.”

He swerved the point. “Even with the excessive safety and protective devices and technologies, it is still possible, though highly improbable, that passengers could be injured in an accident. I distrust the judgement of anyone in your condition who would submit themselves to such risks!”

When the silence descended on the house for an uncomfortably long time, Amanda raised up on her knees in the lounge chair (knowing she would regret the likely aches later) to see which contender would make the next move.

Saavik’s frame was tense, crouched in a barely-perceptible posture of ferocity. Her eyes were glittering. Sarek seemed at first glance to be displaying completely neutral body language, but Amanda could feel his anxiety through the bond.

“A person in my condition?” Saavik parroted in a tone that was utterly calm in contrast to her stance. “You refer to my pregnancy, which, I remind you, is barely in the second quarter.”

“I do refer to that condition. You carry within you another living being who is beholden to your capricious foolishness.” 

Amanda could imagine Saavik as a vicious wildcat in that moment. Even her fingers curled slightly into a clawed shape. 

She sent psychic waves of caution to her husband, but his next statement suggested that he ignored the warning. Sarek closed the gap between him and Saavik, forcing her to either step back or crane her neck up to look him in the eyes. “Your body, girl, is not your own. You carry the descendant of Surak, of house S'chn T'gai.”

“My body will  _ always _ belong to me,” Saavik hissed. “No one, not you, or Spock, or the healers, or all of Vulcan will take that from me.” She was coiled tightly, trembling with the effort to hold on to a last thread of control.

“Sarek--” Amanda called out loud, another warning in her voice.

“Have you no sense of maternal instinct?” he questioned.

“Sarek!” Amanda cried. // _ Have you lost your mind? _ she admonished through the bond.

But it was not Amanda’s scolding that made him take a step back from Saavik. In response to his question, she slumped, propping herself against the cool stone countertop. She was breathing in irregular shallow breaths, and both her eyes and lips were squeezed tightly shut. 

The moment the words left his mouth, Sarek had expected a reaction of rage: spitting, cursing, perhaps even physical violence. This girl carried the blood of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy, and no amount of Vulcan nurture could completely erase that. It was a force that drove her to seek perfection and achievement, and he could not help but admire that even if it meant she frequently resorted to overtures of emotion.

Instead, it was as if that force completely drained from her. She was the picture of devastation, and Sarek knew himself to be the artist.

He mentally slammed a heavy door on the bond between him and his wife as he retreated deep into himself to seek a place of serenity. He was the one who had displayed control and presented his arguments more confidently, but he knew he had lost the high ground in this discussion. It was illogical to wish to unsay words already spoken, but he desired it in spite of logic. He found himself unable to act or speak as the excruciating moment dragged on.

Fortunately Amanda was at Sarek’s side to rescue him, as she had many times before when he had overstepped with their children. She dropped her hand covering her mouth and whispered, “Saavik?”

Saavik flinched, and Sarek prepared for her rage. But she astonished him by taking a deep breath and standing up straight. Though her shoulders were back, she would not meet their eyes, instead locking her focus on something beyond the patio in the darkening evening.

She spoke without emotion. “Of course. It  _ was _ illogical, careless, and ungrateful for me to disrespect your hospitality this evening. I humbly beg your pardon for my irreverence of your family’s status and for mistreating the incubator of your descendant.”

“Saavik, hold on--” Amanda started, but Saavik continued in a flat tone.

“I wish to return to my rooms to mediate. I will accept your demand that I prepare to vacate.”

“Please, stay. We need to talk,” Amanda implored, but Sarek broke his silence to speak over her.

“You are free to return to your rooms to mediate. I hope you will join us for last meal.”

“I endeavour to. I will take my leave.” She turned with military precision and marched out, leaving her hosts without having made eye contact.

Sarek opened the hallways of his mind, reforging the pathway between his psyche and Amanda’s. Already he could feel her quarrelous emotions. “It was prudent to allow her her privacy as she desired.”

“This needs to be settled. Sarek, you know you owe her an apology, right?” At his silence, she pushed on. “What you said is absolutely horrible. I don’t even know who you are!”

“I am your husband and your bondmate. I am the same man who has made so many missteps and spoken abhorrent words to those he treasures in service to faulty logic. Forgive me.” His final words were whispered, and Amanda’s resolve broke. She had rarely ever been able to resist comforting him in these moments, even when she should stand up to him to demand that the situation reach a fulfilling conclusion for everyone. Though he had transgressed, she was complicit in his parenting sins by association. Her children had suffered for her weakness, all surviving by building a shell of resentment and rebelling against Sarek’s discipline.

It had not been fair to the children, nor had it been fair to Sarek. And she, too, had suffered for their shortcomings in parenting. If she had been stronger instead of following along with his decisions and methods, perhaps Sybok would not have been exiled and unwittingly lured to his death. Perhaps Michael would have lived a more fulfilling life and grown old among her loved ones. Perhaps she could have mended the gulf between Spock and Sarek instead of letting decades of silence and bitterness prevail.

No more. She was far too old to keep making the same mistake. “You are not kicking her out. If she goes, I go!” 

Sarek turned his distressed expression on her. “I would have her stay. And I would have you stay, always. Do not mistake me for a stronger man, the man of my youth who dared to keep you at arm’s length and test your threats. I would not survive your leaving.”

Amanda’s resolve crumbled, again, just a little, but she had frequently been accused of being a bleeding heart. “Oh, my love.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to lay her head on his shoulder. He enfolded her in his arms and poured what feelings he allowed himself into their bond. // _ You are everything to me, beloved. You carry my very life in your hands, and I am at your mercy. _

_ //After everything we’ve been through, Sarek, I can’t believe you think I’d ever leave you. I only meant that I would move out in temporary protest. _

_ //I know that I sometimes take you for granted. It is not intentional. I wish to be better and will make an effort to do so. _

Amanda pulled back, swiping at the tears on her cheek. The house staff would soon begin preparing a customary meal in honor of Sarek’s return from his long absence, and she knew Sarek would not want to be witnessed in a moment of vulnerability.

“For some reason you stuck by this silly human woman when you could have had any available Vulcan woman you wanted. Let’s go to our rooms and let the staff have the kitchen. We need to talk about our approach with Saavik next time she deems us worthy of her presence.”

He held out two fingers, and she joined with him. “Do you want another warm beverage before we go?” she asked.

“Indeed, though I should refrain from cafe mocha. My tolerance has waned since you introduced me to it, and I am prone to displays of absurdity after drinking.”

“You are indeed. You  _ did  _ propose to me while under its effects.”

\-----

Saavik did not join them for last meal. They debated well into the night about whether they should try talking with her. Ultimately Amanda went to bed before they made the decision. Sarek retired to his office to work. Recovery efforts were still underway in the probe’s wake, and Sarek’s goal tonight was to complete a plan to locate and inform family members of Vulcans who died off-world during the disaster. He could have delegated the work to his staff, or even allowed the Vulcan embassy to assist. But he found it an honor to undertake the grim task.

Late into the night, a few hours until sunrise, he detected the light step and swish of fabric of someone approaching his office. He could feel that Amanda was still asleep, and the footsteps did not belong to any staff member.

Saavik appeared in his doorway. He set down his PADD and indicated a comfortable armchair on the opposite side of his desk. She sat, but when she did not begin a conversation, he picked up his PADD to continue working, allowing her the silence. It was not strained or tense, but a very Vulcan kind of companionable quiet. The more extroverted species such as Humans, Deltans, and Klingons seemed to have a need to fill the silent moments with chatter. Amanda had learned to appreciate how quiet Vulcans were in everyday life, though Sarek was never put off or bothered by what she had to say.

After almost an hour of quiet, Sarek had almost completed his task when Saavik spoke. “According to specifications, your model of aircar is capable of a speed almost double of what I was able to achieve. However, I was not able to go beyond 150 kilometers per hour. There may be a malfunction.”

Sarek sat his PADD on the desk again and stood, engaging in minor stretching exercises to encourage blood flow to his stiff limbs. “The car is equipped with a governor that can only be disabled by someone with an enhanced pilot’s license.” He walked out from behind his desk and sat in the chair next to hers. “As of two months ago, the aircar was functioning above the governor’s speed without malfunction.”

The microexpression on her face was one of surprise and… triumph? He recalled that he had never confirmed her assumption that he sometimes drove the car at excessive speeds based on the supplemental protective gear stored in the garage. “Speed, it is said, is a young person’s game. I did not understand the appeal of fast travel, though, until Spock visited briefly at the conclusion of his first five year deployment on the Enterprise. I had just received a new turbo aircar. His Starfleet pilot’s license was sufficient for overriding the governor, and he took me for a ride that was intended to evoke exuberance.”

“Joyride,” Amanda corrected from the doorway. “The term is joyride.”

“Greeting, Lady Amanda,” Saavik said. “If you had no intention then of driving at such speeds, why did you choose the more sophisticated model?”

“As I enumerated yesterday, the enhanced safety features are available only on that model.”

“Something you have to understand about my husband, Saavik, is his strong desire to protect the people he cherishes comes across as overbearing and controlling at times.” Amanda perched primly on Sarek’s lap. He knew that this act was often correlated with a playful and teasing mood; he was pleased that the sullenness that had descended on his wife after his and Saavik’s argument the night before had passed.

“Wife,” he admonished gently. He resisted the urge to rest his hand on her upper thigh to maintain some propriety in Saavik’s company. “This is not fitting behavior in front of our guest.”

“And our guest is probably starving. Let me make you both an early breakfast.”

“On the contrary, I am experiencing mild nausea. But I do wish to commune with you both.” Saavik stood, mimicking Sarek’s earlier stretching exercises.

Amanda smiled in sympathy. “That’s likely dehydration. Let’s get you some tea and see how you feel about food afterwards.” 

Sarek said, “I recall that Amanda was struck with debilitating nausea through the second and third quarters of carrying Spock.”

“It’s part of human pregnancy,” Amanda countered. She dialed in Vulcan breakfast tea as her husband and lodger seated themselves in the dining alcove, then she began preparing a light morning meal.

Sarek continued, “While nausea is a common symptom, such extreme intensity would result in a much higher maternal mortality rate if commonly experienced. I recall that Daniel determined it was the copper supplements.”

Saavik mindlessly laid her hand against the hypoinjection site from her morning supplement. “Daniel altered the mix ratio of my supplement at my appointment yesterday. The growth rate of the fetus has slowed, and my own copper and calcium levels are at suboptimal levels.”

“What did he say about your protein levels?” Amanda asked as she set three plates on the table and seated herself between Sarek and Saavik.

“Also suboptimal. As were my sodium levels, potassium levels, ceruloplasmin level, TIBC ratio, and thiol levels.” Saavik took a long pull from her mug.

Amanda and Sarek exchanged a glance. “If I may inquire, were any of the results above suboptimal?” Sarek queried. 

“My temperature and white blood cell count were elevated.”

Amanda stood to retrieve the water pitcher and a glass for Saavik.

“Are you following the prescribed regimens?” Sarek questioned. Saavik nodded. “And they believe simply altering your supplement injections will be sufficient? Did Daniel or Sorel indicate that there is cause for concern?” Before Saavik could form a response, he pressed on. “During your appointments, do not restrain from describing any new pain or discomfort you are experiencing. The brain’s anterior cingulate cortex and thalamus are sometimes capable of recognizing anomalies before they are detectable by medical technology.”

Saavik waited for a break in his speech. “Amanda’s assessment is correct. Your concern manifests as a tendency to be overbearing.”

Sarek nodded his head in contrition.

Saavik dropped her eyes to hands that were clasped together on the table. “I must apologize again for my behavior. I do find my judgement somewhat clouded as of late.”

“I think all of us are feeling a little cattywampus lately” Amanda replied. “I hope you understand that it’s ridiculous to think we’d kick you out over an argument. You’re staying here, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Saavik shook her head. “Neither of you wished for this. I sometimes regret my choice in forcing this burden upon you.”

Amanda laid her hand on the table next to Saavik’s arm. “You didn’t ask for this, either, dear. It’s hard, and it’s going to get harder.”

“I am still undecided on whether I should terminate while it is still early.” She swallowed and raised her eyes to meet Sarek’s. “You must find the idea of terminating a descendent of Surak distasteful.”

Sarek knew she was utilizing his argument from the evening before in a fair manner, but he was disturbed to hear it reframed in such a manner. “Descendants are only described as such when they are born. At the moment, the fetus is just that: a collection of cells. It does not have a katra or a functioning cortex. This is a choice only you can make. No one else’s opinions or preferences overrule.”

“I sometimes desire that this would end naturally before it becomes more difficult,” Saavik admitted. She crossed her arms across her stomach.

Amanda spoke gently. “I think any woman or being in your position would feel that way. One of the most abhorrent things to Vulcans about the Fever is that it takes away your control and your options.”

“Amanda, the staff will be arriving momentarily,” Sarek warned.

Amanda quashed her irritation. She had hoped in the beginning of their marriage that Sarek would become more comfortable with discussing this most private aspect of Vulcan biology with her. She believed that since they were literally in each other’s heads, there was nothing too shameful or embarrassing that they could not address when necessary. But the taboo was strongly drilled into every Vulcan from the moment they were matched with a future bondmate, and even she could not undo decades of the strictest cultural belief.

“I’ll just say that we, along with Doctor Corrigan and Sorel, understand that this is a consequence of a situation where you really only had one choice. You’re also very very young and at the beginning of your career. Starfleet isn’t known to be accommodating of new parents. How many Starfleet officers do you know who are able to keep a family together?”

“Something,” Sarek added, “which I have been lobbying to ameliorate. Vulcans have been exploring space since long before the Federation was formed, and we have never forced someone to choose between that career and a family. I do not expect Starfleet to improve far on the issue in the coming years, but when you are ready to start a family, I hope you do not find your career to be an obstacle.”

Saavik shook her head. “If I am fortunate enough to come out of this with an infant, I do not believe additional children would be in my future. Finding a mate who would find me acceptable without the added complexity of a Vulcan Human hybrid child is difficult enough. I do not expect to find him any time soon. By then, having children would be extremely unlikely for a woman of my age.”

“Oh, Saavik,” Amanda said, smiling with a mix of bemusement and sympathy. “One commonality across all species is that the youth have no idea how young they are.”

“That statement is illogical,” Saavik countered, her eyebrow climbing up her forehead.


	10. Chapter 10

“Your weight’s dropped again. 2.5 kilos less than your appointment four days ago.”

“This chart,” Sorel tapped on his PADD then swiped off the top of the screen to send it to Saavik’s PADD, “shows the consistent downward trend that has continued for nine weeks. Even though the fetus’s growth is trending up at an acceptable rate, your weight loss is concerning. You must increase your caloric content.”

“I need to point out, again, that you aren’t completing your food log,” Daniel reminded her.

“On the contrary, I have logged over 90% of my intake,” Saavik countered. She switched off the PADD’s display.

“So it’s accurate that you consumed less than 1200 yesterday, and less than 1000 the day before? Saavik, no amount of supplements can make up for a lack of nutrients from real food.”

“I am aware.”

“We are growing increasingly concerned about your heart and liver.”

“As you said at my last appointment.”

Daniel sighed. He wasn’t sure if her stoicism was some zen state or simple exhaustion. He preferred when she was fiery, argumentative, and opinionated at the beginning of the pregnancy, even though it had intimidated him at times. Before he had met her, he had this idea that the Romulans’ aggression was a purely result of their culture considering how much of their DNA they shared with Vulcans. But Saavik hit him like an earthquake, crumbling the foundations of that theory. He had been told enough of her background to know that she was essentially raised Vulcan, but had the hallmarks of Romulan aggression, temperament, outspokenness. (He attributed her stubbornness to the Vulcan side.) 

Sorel and Daniel exchanged a look, and the Vulcan silently volunteered to transition to the next topic. “Saavik, the deadline is approaching. You must make a choice. We estimate that there is a 96% chance that in seven to fourteen days you will detect a katra in the fetus. From that moment, abortion will no longer be option except in very limited circumstances. If you wish to terminate, we must perform the procedure in the upcoming days.”

Saavik slid down from the examination bed to look out of the tinted window. The view from this window was an enclosed rock and sculpture garden that surrounded three quarters of the healing facility. Beyond the low wall of the garden, the outskirts of the city were laid out in a perfect grid pattern. The L-langon mountains rose up in the distance at the horizon, the same mountains she had been staring at for months from the S'chn T'gai estate.

Among those mountains were sacred sites that Spock’s family had utilized for all of the key ceremonies. He had been born in the caves, bonded to T’Pring among those mountains, and trained for his test on Vulcan’s Forge in the dry lakebed valley. If this pregnancy was successful, she would presumably give birth, oversee the bonding, and facilitate the wedding of Spock’s child at those same sites.

But the mountains were just mountains. Even if they held rich history spanning back before the Reformation, they held no answers for her. This decision must be based on logic, not sentiment.

Saavik shivered and drew her patient robe tighter around her. She was always cold now. Amanda had noticed and adjusted the primary environment controls to keep the house warmer against Saavik’s protests. But unless she was lounging in the sun, seated close to a fireplace, or had her hands wrapped around a mug of tea, the chill refused to dissipate. She knew this was due to the ravaging of her body by the pregnancy, but she did not begrudge the fetus. Afterall, the fetus and her were one, sharing the same body, nutrients, and energy.

The nausea was debilitating at times, as Sarek had warned. The only substances that provided reprieve from the sensation were peppermint tea and a drug that caused her blood pressure to climb and her blood sugar to fall, both to unacceptable values. She was frequently exhausted, but sleep refused to come except in short snippets. Her head ached, her feet swelled, her joints burned, and she cycled between excessive sweating and excessive mucus production at all times.

But all of the insufferable discomfort and pain had been momentarily dismissed when she experienced the fluttering sensation in her abdomen when the fetus wiggled about. Five days ago, she had been meditating on the choice by carefully examining her decision to terminate the pregnancy at today’s appointment. But the unique roiling in her stomach had jolted her out of the meditative trance. She had remained completely still for almost four minutes before feeling it for a second time.

Her hours of research had prepared her to recognize the feeling as the movement of the fetus, but nothing could have prepared her for the strong waves of emotion she experienced. Amanda had been out of the house visiting friends and Sarek was always visibly uncomfortable to discuss pregnancy, so she had spent the rest of her evening wandering around the house, her arms crossed over her stomach and illogically encouraging the fetus to keep moving.

She could not articulate, even to herself, why detecting the fetus’s movement caused her to reevaluate the situation. It was no more a viable baby than it was before that moment. It was even possible that she had felt the movements before and dismissed them as digestive distress. But, as illogical as it was, the sensation had caused a shift in her perspective. And she was further away from a resolution than ever.

“Saavik?” Daniel prompted.

“My apologies, Doctor, Healer. Yes, I am aware the decision must be made in the next few days. Do you have a recommendation?”

Sorel folded his hands behind his back. “Daniel and I do not make recommendations on this subject. We will provide you with all of the information, data, and predictions you need so that you can decide. But we maintain the position that this is your body, your health, and your future. To make a recommendation would be to infringe upon your autonomy.”

Saavik nodded. The scanner over the med bed trilled as it continued to read her vitals while she was across the room. Her heart rate was spiking.

Daniel pushed a button to silence the alarm. “All we ask is that you give us a day’s notice if you do decide to terminate so that we can schedule an operating room. No one on our staff will try to sway you either way. And if anyone in your house tries to convince you to go one way or the other without your permission, shut down the conversation. If you need a few days away from the estate, T'Mir and I would be willing to open our guest room to you.”

“That will not be necessary. Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda will respect my decision. Their opinions, however, are welcome as they have agreed to take primary custody of the resulting child to allow me to return to Starfleet.”

Sorel raised his eyebrows. “Vulcan society cordially welcomes the birth of all Vulcan children. It remains to be seen if Vulcan society can endure another S'chn T'gai ward without further intergalactic incident.”

Daniel barked out a laugh, and Saavik stared at the healer, unable to fathom the possibility that he had made a joke, especially one at Sarek’s expense.

\-----

When she had started to consider the fetus a future person instead of simply a cluster of cells, Saavik’s thoughts often turned to David Marcus. She would find herself wondering how a child raised by someone of his gentle, compassionate nature would fare. The galaxy lacked enough people of his disposition, and it would have been an honor to bring one more in the world.

Before then, her strongest arguments for continuing the pregnancy were to provide the house of S'chn T'gai with an heir and to give Amanda a grandchild that she greatly desired. Those were not sufficient reasons to put a strain on her health. 

But she also could not dismiss the gut feeling that this may be her only opportunity to conceive and have the support of the male donor’s family. Any future pregnancy would be deliberate, likely anonymous, and with a species other than Vulcan, which meant she would be forced to endure this trial again. And while she was not certain if she wanted to raise a child now, she knew her desires could change in the future, especially in the unlikely event that she found a mate.

She ended up falling asleep in her bed before she finished considering her options. Her blood pressure and anxiety were always heighted during medical procedures, and she had not been able to control that reaction even with her near-daily schedule of appointments or visits. Her medical appointments tended to drain her in recent weeks, and today’s had been especially exhausting.

Even when her first evening alarm sounded, she was able to awaken only long enough to self administer the hypoinjection before collapsing back into bed. A hot stabbing pain developed in her upper abdomen, but she focused to compartmentalize it with the intention of addressing it in the morning.

Amanda arrived home a few hours after Saavik’s appointment. She searched for Saavik, but upon finding her door shut, she traversed to the opposite wing of the house to Sarek’s office. “Good evening, husband.” 

“Wife,” he greeted in return, touching two fingers to hers. “You have returned later than you indicated you would. How was your lecture?”

“It went well. I just got caught up in conversation with a student.” Amanda ran her nails gently up and down the back of Sarek’s neck as she explained. “You remember my Saurian student Lis’t’a? Her hatchday is tomorrow, and her fellow students have arranged a traditional Saurian sunrise celebration in her honor. It should be fascinating. Saurians rarely observe hatchday celebrations nowadays, but Lis’t’a is part of a religious sect that puts great importance on them.”

Sarek hummed an acknowledgement and willed himself not to close his eyes and indulge in the sensation of her hands stroking his neck. He had been feeling a growing sense of tension all evening, but her touch never failed to lessen any tension he was holding. 

“Did you see Saavik after her appointment? Her door is shut, and I don’t want to bother her if she’s napping,” Amanda questioned, smiling as Sarek tilted his head slightly to direct her touches.

“I did. She appeared to be suffering torpor, but that is becoming more common after her medical appointments. She has made little progress on her research project this week. When we spoke briefly she indicated an interest in the Sacred Caves and venerated ancestral sites but was not in a condition for a lengthy discussion.”

“We’ll let her sleep then, and I’ll encourage her to have a go at some soup after dinner. Are you hungry?”

Sarek shut off his display and stood. “I am not, but I will join you at the meal table.”


	11. Chapter 11

“I had believed you were not joining me for first meal, Saavik.” Sarek placed his PADD on the table as Saavik seated herself on the stool beside him at the dining table the next morning. Though it was considered rude in many cultures (including Vulcan) to focus on the PADD at the meal table, he had found efficiency in getting ahead in his day by perusing mail and news when he found himself alone for a meal, a habit he had picked up on Earth.

Saavik had a bowl of broth before her, but appeared disinterested in it. “Lady Amanda is not joining us?”

“She is joining a group of her Academy students to participate in a cultural activity. She expects to return in a few hours.”

Saavik nodded once to acknowledge. After swallowing a spoonful of broth, she folded her hands in her lap and stared out at Amanda’s garden. Sarek knew that Saavik would occasionally slip into a contemplative, melancholy mood; he estimated these episodes were occurring 2.3 times more often than her initial two weeks on the estate. But her immediate mannerisms did not precisely fit her usual pattern in those situations. He detected a tremor in her frame, her skin seemed translucent, and the dark circles under her eyes that had been permanent these past weeks appeared more prominent. Most concerning was a slight sheen of sweat glistening on her face even though the environmental controls were set to Vulcan parameters.

He decided to inquire into her condition. It would be considered intrusive by most Vulcans, but he knew Saavik would be accustomed to it, as he was, because of an extended presence in the company of humans. “Saavik, are you well?”

“I am well,” she answered quickly, as if by habit. He could hear her heartbeat accelerating and considered probing further, but her next actions negated any hesitation. She stood quickly, tight lipped and shaking.

“You are not well!” He stood and caught her as she stumbled, and he could feel her skin burning up as she gripped his arms for stability. “Are you in pain? Can you describe your condition?” Her eyes were squeezed tightly, and her breathing was fast and shallow.

“I--” she cut off to turn away from him and vomit. It was an alarming shade of emerald green. “Sarek!” she sobbed, though she was still in control enough to keep her tears from falling. He pulled her more securely into his arms as she shuddered and collapsed.

“Computer, emergency medical transport!” he barked. He pushed down an insistent fear as the mother of his son’s child dropped her head to his chest. He didn’t notice the transporter beam had taken them until healer’s assistants pulled her from his grip to lay her onto an antigrav medbed.

Swallowing the bitter flood of adrenaline in his mouth, he listed out relevant information about her identity and condition to the healers, taking comfort in reciting facts. He hesitated slightly before reaching the end of his monologue. “You must refer to her file before administering treatment as her pregnancy is atypical.”

The healer who was reading through her chart did not bother to look up from it. “It would be illogical to do otherwise, Sarek. Healers Sorel and Corrigan have been summoned. If there is no further information you can provide, you may wait in the family room. You will find signs directing you. Or shall we call you by comms to update you on her condition?”

“I will remain on the premise.”

In the waiting room, he took a short moment to compose himself before contacting Amanda. Even among Vulcans, situations involving pregnancy could be confusing and fraught with emotional upheaval, and he needed Amanda to take charge in this situation. He was not equipped to handle what he suspected was to come.

\-----------

Amanda kept on hand on Saavik’s bed, close enough so the young woman could feel the heat of another body, but still refraining from touching her without her consent. Saavik had been in a much-needed healing sleep for two hours, and Amanda hadn’t left her side since she had stabilized. 

Amanda would soon be forced to step away for a few moments to address the call of nature, but she couldn’t forget the memory of Saavik grabbing her wrist tightly and pleading, “Please, Lady Amanda, do not abandon me!” Saavik’s skin had been pale almost to the point of translucence, her bloodless lips white. The strength of her grip on Amanda’s arm had slackened as she had started to convulse. Amanda had moved into the corner of the room to make space for the healers, but she had not left the room since that moment hours ago.

She was feeling everything at once. Certainly grief and disappointment. But she was surprised to find how angry she felt. It was all so unfair. Saavik never seemed to catch a break. Starting life starving, beaten, and perhaps worse on an unwanted planet in hostile territory. Enduring a string of foster families, none of whom were able to handle her and promptly passed her on to the next family. Struggling through the academy as one of only a handful of Vulcans, and definitely the only half Romulan. 

Amanda knew there was a brief schism between Saavik and Spock in the girl’s first year at the academy, but she had been barred from learning more because of the classified nature of the surrounding situation. All she knew was that it was connected to that lab contamination accident that had caused death on a massive scale at headquarters. Then to lose Spock, and gain him back only to lose David at the same time. And the Spock she did get back had yet to recall memories of her. So she endured this unintended pregnancy without him, and experienced the loss without him as well.

When Amanda had learned that Spock had taken a male mate during his first Time after the koon-ut-kal-if-fee, she’d figured grandchildren would be very unlikely in her lifetime, so Saavik’s pregnancy was an unexpected gift. And she was angry for letting herself get so attached to the idea. She’d gotten so wrapped up in the fantasy of having a baby around, Spock’s baby, that she’d never really braced herself for this very likely outcome. Even though they’d never figured out how they should handle disclosure, they would have figured it out as they went along. Amanda had so looked forward to raising another baby, and nostalgia had let her gloss over how extremely difficult it had been the first time around.

But that future was gone. Spock’s mate was likely to outlive her, and if Spock took a wife after that, Amanda would never meet the resulting children.

A soft swish of fabric caused Amanda to look up at the door and focus on the present. “Husband,” she acknowledged. Sarek’s face was the same neutral stoniness that he wore when someone he cared about was injured or ill. Amanda held up two fingers to him, and he joined his own to hers.

“May I inquire into our ward’s condition?” The waves of sorrow he had sensed from his wife let him draw some conclusions about the events, but he felt relief at seeing some color to Saavik’s face. Still, she seemed so small in the medbed, and his memory dredged up images of Amanda’s ravaged state following Spock’s birth.

“She’s out of the woods, and she shouldn’t suffer any long-term effects. But… the baby didn’t make it.”

Sarek closed his eyes for a moment and bowed his head. “We grieve as one.” He pulled Amanda into his arms, and she allowed herself a moment to lay her head against his chest for comfort.

“She fought hard. I know she’d never quite decided whether she wished to carry to term, but I don’t doubt that ultimately she wanted to.”

Sarek squeezed Amanda and released her. “Though the social aspects of the situation would have been difficult to navigate, Vulcan would have welcomed the child. Our family would have welcomed the child.” Amanda sniffed as she worked to hold back tears. She had already cried for Saavik, for Spock, for what could have been, but she wanted to be brave now for Saavik. “Beloved, please take a few moments for yourself. I will stay with her in case she awakens, and you are in need of refreshment.”

Amanda bit her lip. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Sarek to handle the situation with grace if Saavik woke up. But… okay, maybe she didn’t entirely trust his abilities on this issue. She knew from her own pregnancy and from watching him in countless social situations throughout their marriage that Sarek struggled with interacting with pregnant women. She guessed it had something to do with the hormones. Vulcan didn’t stigmatize their women as overly emotional or irrational the way humans did, but pregnancy could cause instability in a Vulcan woman’s control in the second and third quarters. Or perhaps Amanda had unintentionally traumatized him with her extreme mood swings during her own pregnancy.

But grief he could handle, she knew. One didn’t reach Sarek’s age without watching friends experience loss and grief. And as he was a much travelled man, having met more beings than most people could in three lifetimes, he had experienced more than his own share of grief. As a family, they had mourned the loss of three children through exile, death, and time travel. And now they would grieve another, one they never got the chance to meet.

“I assure you, I will not upset her if she wakes while you are gone, Amanda.”

Amanda smiled, eyes shining. “I know. Stay with her, I’ll return as quickly as possible.”

In his wife’s brief absence, Sarek moved closer to Saavik’s bed. Her sweat-soaked curls framed her face in disarray. When she had come to them, she had still had some youthful roundness to her countenance remaining, but now she appeared gaunt. She must have gone to great measures to conceal her rapid weight loss.

He was surprised to find that he felt no measure of relief that their potential difficulties had solved themselves before they arose. Eventually Saavik would perhaps decide to reveal the conception to Spock, but now it would remain hypothetical, a “what might have been.” 

But it was only his sadness and disappointment fighting to be acknowledged. Amanda had been vocal about her desire for grandchildren; at some indeterminate point along the way, Sarek had too come to look forward to it. During meditation, an idea had coalesced that this child would be the chance he desired to avoid the grave errors in his parenting of Spock, Sybok, and his daughter. Perhaps this time, he could have conducted himself correctly.

But dwelling was illogical. Now they would put their energy towards overcoming grief and moving forward. They would support and guide Saavik through sorrow and trauma until she was fit enough to return to Starfleet.


	12. Chapter 12

**35 years later...**

“Zha’mes, this is not your PADD. You must not take other people’s belongings without their permission. Please return this. Now.”

“It is mine, Spock,” Sarek said, entering the family room. The scolded Vulcan child dashed behind Sarek’s legs, and he bent down to pull the child into his arms. “I was allowing him to view a study tape on it and I must have… lost focus.”

“There is no shame in admitting you succumbed to an impromptu nap, Sarek,” Saavik said from the couch. The infant in her arms was attached to her breast, feeding with gusto. “It is logical that you would be fatigued after several days of serving as Zha’mes’s primary caregiver full time.”

“We are gratified by your assistance, Father,” Spock added. He held out his hands to allow Sarek to transfer the child, but Sarek turned slightly away.

“I wish to hold him for a short time longer.” To emphasize the point, Zha’mes cuddled closer to Sarek, burying his face in his grandfather’s shoulder. “I expect he will soon succumb to sleep as well.”

After Spock slipped the PADD from the child’s fingers, Sarek walked over to large transparent doors that led to the back garden. Amanda’s rose garden was in full bloom; she had spent the last years of her life cross breeding Earth roses with Vulcan flowers to produce hearty, heat- and drought-tolerant blooms. Following her death, he had voiced a desire to renovate the garden and replace it with native plants, and he was grateful that Spock had vehemently argued against it. It had been an illogical notion fueled by emotion. Viewing the garden made him think of his late wife, and that had been painfully difficult in the months immediately after the shuttle accident that had ended her life.

She had lived a long, full life. But there was not a day in the ten years since her passing that he did not yearn for her. Even now, when he was in his office and the chime alerted him that the front door had been opened, he occasionally glanced up at the security monitor expecting to see her. He still found himself making mental notes of items to discuss with her when he saw her next such as a journal article or an anecdote, especially as Zha’mes grew and Spock and Saavik’s second child arrived.

Spock visited the estate more often than he had done in the years between Amanda’s death and Zha’mes’s birth, but the days between visits were long and lonely. Having the child full time as Spock and Saavik prepared for their second had been a welcome respite.

“If he is becoming a hindrance, we are prepared to bring him home now,” Spock spoke from the kitchen as he ran the PADD through the sanitizer.

“He is not a hindrance. He never has been,” Sarek chided. Spock had always been too quick to shield Sarek from the boy; Sarek wondered if it was a genetic tendency to expect too much from one’s son or if his own parenting had led Spock to believe that Sarek had little interest in children. 

Sarek adjusted Zha’mes who had, predictably, fallen asleep against Sarek’s shoulder. “He is growing so quickly,” Sarek commented to Saavik as she approached to stand at his side and gaze at the garden. The olive-skinned infant (who had yet to be named) slept soundly, her miniature lips pursed into a “O.” The curve of her tiny, fragile ear was more pronounced than either Spock’s or Zha’mes’s had been as a newborn.

“On the contrary, his growth has always trended in the second and, at times, the first quartiles. Healer Struk is certain that he is in excellent health but is simply small.”

Sarek hummed in acknowledgement. “Spock was always small until the summer before he enrolled in Starfleet. Then He experienced such extreme periods of growth that it seemed we could see the difference from one day to the next. I attribute it to his human blood.”

“Amanda was diminutive even for a human,” Saavik observed. They were silent for a time, both contemplating private thoughts. When Spock approached and again offered to take the sleeping child, Sarek transferred him over, suppressing a wince as the muscles in his back protested. He was growing lax in his physical fitness regimen.

“He is too old to be cradled in such a way, especially by someone of your advanced age, Father,” Spock insisted. 

“He is only seven. You will look back one day and realize how very young that is,” Sarek replied to Spock’s back as he carried the sleeping child to his bedroom. When Sarek received no reply, he initiated the gentle transfer of the infant from Saavik’s arms. “And I am just past 150,” he told the sleeping infant. “Do not let your father misguide you into believing that I am a decrepit old man.” If he sometimes needed extra time to reach a destination while on foot or braced more tightly against the cold, it did not mean that he was incapable of being self-sufficient or ready to retire. “She is so Vulcan,” Sarek observed.

“She has blue eyes,” Saavik commented. “I find it a curious result of her mixed genetics.”

“That would be Amanda’s paternal line. Her father had what many described as ‘striking’ gray eyes.” He adjusted the infant’s swaddling clothes and rocked in a soothing sway.

“You miss her,” Saavik stated. Sarek did not reply and continued to stare out the window. “You have mentioned her name 20 percent more often than usual in the past two days.”

“She is on my mind often as of late. She would have been delighted that you produced a daughter. She never stopped believing that she failed our own daughter, though I would and will always contest that belief. I regret that my wife did not have this opportunity.” 

Saavik bowed her head. “I, too, regret it. I often wish for her guidance, especially during the gestation periods. Every mug of peppermint tea evokes her memory.”

“I had almost believed you to be subsisting solely on overly sugared peppermint tea and hypospray supplements the first time.” They rarely spoke about Saavik’s first pregnancy and the time immediately after Spock’s revival. It had been a difficult, confusing time, certainly one of the worst of Saavik’s life.

“Your assessment was not completely incorrect. I was irresponsible with my health and nutritional needs during that period.”

Sarek took a deep breath and turned away from the garden to look down into Saavik’s face. “You were experiencing much turmoil in those months. No one in this house was thinking with absolute clarity. Saavik, I am relieved at the good fortune that you have created for yourself. That I am included in even a part of it makes me… grateful.”

A crash followed by the raised voices of a middle-aged man and a seven-year-old child brought the solemnity of the moment to an end.

“He is overly tired and will be difficult for the rest of the day,” Saavik complained.

“Do you refer to your son or mine?”

Despite her best attempt at self control, Sarek’s jest elicited an unrepressed grin from Saavik. “Come, Sarek. Let us attempt to control our wayward sons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I want to do a little plug for some other wonderful authors and works you should read if you enjoyed this:
> 
> •The Race of Cain by Kerjen: http://www.kerjen.net/ststories/cain-preface.htm  
> •Everything by TomFooleryPrime, specifically "Between Now and Eternity" https://archiveofourown.org/works/13259316  
> "Meet Me on Sunday" https://archiveofourown.org/works/8859412/chapters/20315479  
> "An Adequate Retelling of the Development of Mutual Affection" https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388035/chapters/46134520  
> And their "Growing Up Spock" series https://archiveofourown.org/series/890334  
> •StarfleetDream's series "Gratified by your Company": https://archiveofourown.org/works/730138  
> •Darksknight's work "Ask Me Again Tomorrow" https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000725


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